Cor Te Reducit
by Myosotis13
Summary: The heart leads you back.But what if you are too far gone to hear its call? The alleged destruction of the Ori has unforeseen,possibly irreparable consequences.Will the team be forever fractured by a new threat,that could very well claim one of their own?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own "Stargate SG1", do not plan on making any profit off this story, no infringement of any rights is intended. **

**A/N: This story takes place after "The Shroud". It's one idea of what could have happened after the ship carrying Adria and the Sangraal passed through the Supergate. Enjoy! **

**  
Chapter I: With Nightmare, It Starts**

Nights inside the Cheyenne Mountain were perhaps not as quiet and restful as the ones outside it. They were certainly not as long. But those short and precious hours, mostly after the clocks had struck three, or even four a.m., were silently and uniquely treasured by one and all of SGC personnel.

It was an unspoken agreement, really, one that no one had penciled out and no one had signed, but everyone was expected to live by. _Things_ did not happen in those _real_ night hours. No missions were scheduled to arrive, none to depart, no meetings, no training, no shrill ringing from the red phone. If an enemy dared strike in that period, he would be dealt with twice as harshly. If an unscheduled activation happened in that narrow time span, whatever off-world visitors arrived through could not trust in a very warm welcome. Rumor had it that the General even set _the_ phone on answering machine every now and then, during those three or four night hours.

Whether that was true or not, none but the General himself could say, and he was not forthcoming on that particular issue. Yet the essence of the matter remained clear: the night hours at SGC were treasured and respected, and all personnel who did not work the night shift took advantage of those precious quiet moments.

Well, _almost_ all.

"Still awake, Jackson?"

"You know what they say about rest and the wicked…"

With a roll of his eyes, Cam shook his head.

"Go to bed, nightbird. You need the beauty sleep." He pretended to measure the archaeologist with a long look. "Although, even this is an improvement over the whole Prior-is-me look—"

Daniel glared at him, as the colonel leaned against the doorframe of his office.

"Did you want something, Mitchell?"

"Nope, just checking to see the lights are out and none of the kids reading with the flashlight under the covers…" He nodded towards the inside of the office. "Dr. Lam recommended rest, Jackson. Maybe you should get a bed set up in this place."

"You've got one and it doesn't seem to be holding you," the other replied testily.

Then he stood up from the chair, and abandoned his glasses on the old desk covered in books, articles and empty coffee cups. It was time for another trip to his very own worship altar, the coffee machine in the mess hall. He headed for the door, not quite surprised to see Mitchell follow.

"You see, Jackson, your little expedition is giving me insomnia."

"Jack got used to it," Daniel replied with a hint of a smile, remembering how many times he'd had similar discussions with his old friend, in his office in the wee hours of the morning.

"There's this one question," Cam continued, ignoring his comment, "nagging at the back of my mi—"

His words froze in midair, as the sound of a muffled cry came from one of the nearby rooms. They had just passed Daniel's quarters. It took less than a second for both of them to figure out where the sound came from. Exchanging a short, serious glance, they set off towards Vala's room.

Her distressed calls reached them faintly through the metal door.

"Vala?" Daniel knocked loudly. A second later, as there was no reply, he tried the door. "Locked. Vala!" he called again, "open the door!"

No answer again. The two men silently consulted each other, and Cam nodded, taking out his access card. He swiped it through the reader next to her door, and there was a definite _click _as the door unlocked. Daniel immediately opened it and they stepped inside.

The room was completely dark, but light from the corridor seeped in through the open door, and they could see Vala, tangled among her sheets, trashing about as though she were struggling some unseen force. Her brow was furrowed, and small beads of sweat glistened on her forehead. Faint whimpers came from her throat as she fought to repel whatever nightmare forces plagued her.

"Vala," Daniel moved to the side of her bed and caught her flailing arms, "Vala, wake up," he called softly, "it's okay, it's just a nightmare—"

"_No_!" she suddenly cried, and he was shocked by the force in her arms, as she tried to escape his grip. "No, never! It's not my fault! _Leave me alone_!"

Tears were streaming down her face, and she struggled against Daniel's body as he tried to wake her up. Discreetly, Cam turned on her bedside lamp and closed the door; he had the feeling she wouldn't want word of this spreading around the base. He wondered what she could be seeing in her mind to make the usual unflappable Vala react that way.

Still holding her tight to prevent her from trashing about, Daniel murmured soothing words in her ear, trying to wake her up. He could feel her body racked by violent shivers, hear her erratic breaths as she still struggled and whimpered faintly. He felt anger well up within him at the thought of whatever inner demons were torturing her.

"Vala!" he called again, this time louder. "Wake up!"

And her eyes suddenly shot open, only instead of their clear blue-grey depths, they shone with fire, the same fire he had seen once, and hoped he'd never see again. The fire of Celestis, the fire of Origin.

**AN: Drop me a line and let me know what you think! Your comments and suggestions keep me going!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you for reading! **

**Chapter II: Just Can't Be True**

She woke up with a pounding headache, and an unexplainable weakness in her limbs. Blinking a couple of times to clear her vision, she tried to make out her surroundings, and quickly discerned the all-too-familiar walls of the SGC infirmary. A groan escaped her lips. Not _again_. She tried to lift a hand to brush away an errant strand of hair, only to discover both her arms were strapped to the infirmary bed.

Well, _that_ was new.

"She's awake," Dr. Lam's voice reached her, and soon afterwards two faces peered cautiously above her bed. Daniel and Mitchell, both standing at the far end of the bed, gave her long looks. She returned an expectative glance. Finally, Daniel spoke guardedly.

"Vala…?"

She cocked an eyebrow. Why were they acting like she was a bomb about to go off?

"Daniel…?" she replied, imitating his tone to convey her confusion.

"That really you?" Mitchell asked with a warning glare, and she frowned at him.

"Of course it's me, who did you expect?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised," the colonel muttered. "Soo…" he crooned with false casualness, "how are you feeling?"

She grimaced.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say I've just been run over by an Al'kesh. My head feels like it's about to explode…_much_ worse than the time Daniel zatted me just to get me out of my clothes," she added after a short consideration. "And I must say I don't care much for your fashion accessories," she finished sarcastically, nodding to the restraints.

"I'm sorry, but those were necessary, Ms. Mal Doran," the general's voice boomed from behind the two men, and they stepped aside to let him get closer. At the same time, Vala noticed the six armed guards, standing at safe—but close—distance on each side of her bed.

"All these good, strong men with big guns, up here just for me…" she commented. "Don't know if I should feel flattered or intimidated. So what did I do _this time_?"

Daniel sat on the edge of her bed, and watched her intently.

"Vala…what's the last thing you remember?"

She winced. _That_ didn't sound good. Frowning, she searched her memory.

"Well…I had dinner with Sam and Teal'c…lovely strawberry shortcake…you weren't there of course, Daniel, so I had to take a piece of the cake up to your lab, from which you _rudely_ kicked me out," she added with a dissatisfied pout.

"I didn't—"

"I honestly can't tell how you acquired that reputation for _diplomacy_, if you treated everyone that boorishly!" she cut him off with a shrug and a would-be, restrained wave of her hand. "Anyway, as I was saying, after you _shooed_ me…"

"I didn't—"

"Dammit Jackson, would it have _killed_ you to eat that shortcake? Look what happened when you made her mad!" Mitchell interjected with grim amusement.

"But I di—"

"Doctor Jackson," Landry cut in, "why don't we allow Ms. Mal Doran to continue…"

"Thank you," she said haughtily. "Right, after Daniel's rude treatment, I remember going for a sparring session with Muscles—Teal'c—and, of course after easily defeating him and three other SG officers—four! And they were all bigger than m—"

"We get the picture, Vala," Mitchell sighed with a roll of his eyes, "just skip to the next part. The _last thing_ you remember, not a chronicle, please?"

"Fine," she pouted, "but know you're missing the juicy parts," she added with a wink. "Okay, okay, the last thing I remember is going to bed and turning off the lights."

Mitchell and Daniel exchanged looks.

"That's all?" Daniel prodded.

"Why, Daniel…you don't want me to tell _everyone_ what happened afterwards…" she whispered saucily.

"Vala, cut it out, this is serious!" he scolded harshly.

His grave expression sobered her, and she nodded, all traces of mirth gone from her countenance.

"That's the last thing I remember. Now, what happened?" she demanded on an equally serious tone. "Why am I here, and _why_ am I restrained?"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

_The fire shone in her eyes for a long, torturous moment. Daniel froze in his spot, his hands still gripping her upper arms, their bodies mere inches apart. He could almost feel the heat on his skin, the flames of Origin reflecting in his own eyes. _

_Then her face contorted in a painful frown, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands flew upwards, grabbing onto his wrists, clutching tightly. He instinctively held onto her as she started trashing again, guileless prey to the same nightmare. Her breaths were short and rapid. When her eyes shot open again, they were wide and clear and frightened. Neither awake nor dreaming still, she fixed a plaintive, confused glance on him, and almost inaudibly whispered his name._

"_Daniel…?"_

_He simply stared at her, shocked and panicked and angry, unable to respond comfortingly, unwilling to break contact and let go of her. For a second long as an infinity, they held each other's gazes. Then she seemed to slip back into a restless sleep, her trashing subsiding slowly, until she lay completely still, her raven hair framing her pale face, where the fire of Origin had burned so brightly only moments before. _

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"Daniel…" she tried to sound amused, but the beginning of panic constricted her throat and instead of flippant, her voice came out almost pleading, "you don't expect me to believe that."

His eyes were regretful and wary at the same time.

"I'm sorry…"

"No…" she pulled at the restrains, trying to stand, trying to get away from all them; they couldn't be telling the truth, it just couldn't be! "No!"

"Vala, calm down," Mitchell urged, coming closer, but she wouldn't listen.

"I don't believe this, I can't believe this…" she shook her head violently, tears coming to her eyes, as she directed a reproachful gaze to them. "Why are you _doing_ this to me?"

"Vala, no one's doing anything, just calm down—"

Again she ignored Cam's pleas, and pulled harder at the restraints. The armed guards moved closer, a subtle motion that no one missed. A muffled sob escaped her lips. Then she directed a wide-eyed gaze to Daniel, calling his name in a tone of utter disbelief.

"Daniel…" He had to meet her eyes; accusing and disappointed and imploring, they left him feeling numb. "Why are you doing this to me…"

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**A/N: As always, can't wait to hear your thoughts! How do you like the story so far? Let me know!**

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks so much to everyone who's reading, and of course to all of you who let me know your thoughts on the story Reading your encouraging words always makes my day brighter!**

**Chapter III: Complications and Doubt  
**

General Landry stepped in before Daniel could respond.

"Ms. Mal Doran, please understand that we are simply being cautious. You more than anyone know what enemy we are up against, and I will not take any chances."

His eyes took in her nervous, disconcerted expression, and he unwittingly remembered the time he had compared her to his estranged daughter. His tone softened considerably, and he placed a reassuring arm on her shoulder, glaring warningly at the twitching guards.

"No one is doing anything against you…whatever is happening, we will find a way to deal with it. But, you have to calm down and trust us, alright?" He stared at her expectantly, until she gave a curt, tense nod. "Good. Now," he continued, reverting to the tone of someone in charge, although his hand still rested on her shoulder, "I need you to focus and tell me if you remember _anything_ after you went to sleep."

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_She lay on a royal, four-poster bed, surrounded by lush silk covers. The room smelled faintly of spiced incense, and candlelight covered the rich furniture in a luring haze of dancing shadows. The bed felt soft and warm under the weight of her body, and subtly it lulled her to sleep. _

_Her eyes snapped open. Something was distinctly, terribly and irreparably wrong. As she jerked completely awake, the comforting air of the dusky room evaporated. The silk against her naked arms felt cold and threatening, the candlelight burned menacingly right at the edges of her vision. Her body refused to move. _

_Then the air above her erupted in furious flames, and they descended upon her, ravenous and cold, and even in her frozen fear, she could sense the sweet temptation beyond the poisonous fire. When her whole being fought against the siege of the flames of Origin, an errand thought longed for all the knowledge, all the power…_

_Then she slammed the door on that backroom of her mind, and hurled her absolute refusal, loud and clear and frightened, and the fire flickered out of existence in the snap of a finger…_

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"That happened last night?" Mitchell asked, disturbed at the mental image she'd projected. Despite his composed face, anger burned inside him, against whatever beings dared do that to a person—and more, to a friend.

"No…I already _told_ you, I don't remember anything happening." Her eyes fixed them warily. "I don't know what you think you saw, but Mitchell…you can't possibly believe…_I'm not lying_!" she hissed.

Wincing at the apprehension in her tone, Cam raised his palms in an appeasing gesture.

"Look, Vala, no one says you're lying. But we came into your quarters because we could hear your cries from down the hall. You were trashing about like mad, shouting and fighting—now you tell me, does this sound like 'nothing happening' to you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she repeated with frustration. "You're crazy. Now I demand you set me free at once!"

Landry gravely shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but that isn't going to happen until we clear up this situation. I need to make sure there is no threat to this base—or this entire _planet_, if what Dr. Jackson saw is true."

"You mean if _the Ori_ somehow…possessed me? They don't strike me as the quiet types," Vala said with bitter sarcasm, "if they were inside my head, don't you think I'd _know_?"

"No, Vala, you probably wouldn't," Daniel explained in a calm tone. He tried to keep his composure, even though he felt a cold, gaping hole in his chest. "You'd have no idea of what was going on, we've seen this before—"

"Oh, Daniel, I really think we've all heard enough about what _you_ have _seen_!" she bit back angrily. "And let me tell you, since you're _seeing_ things that aren't there, you should consider keeping this kind of _ridiculous_ accusations to yourself—"

"Ms. Mal Doran," Landry cut her off with a warning glance, "calm down. You are not helping your case, and anger will get us nowhere. This is not Dr. Jackson's fault," he added after a second's thought.

Closing her eyes for a long moment, Vala exhaled loudly. When she raised her head to look at them again, a tamer expression had replaced the fearful indignation on her face.

"I know we've seen a lot in these two years of fighting the Ori. People dying and coming back, people changing and changing back…"she said nodding to Daniel, "…or not…" she added softly, thinking of Tomin, "a lot of lies and cheating and subterfuge…and even now we don't know if the Ori are gone. But," she continued, in a grave tone, "please don't ask me to believe that they somehow survived inside me, because I _won't_…no matter who says so," she finished in a near whisper, giving Daniel a quick sidelong glance.

A short silence followed her words. Not sure how to react, Mitchell patted her knee with a curt nod. Noncommittal as the gesture might have been, it was the closest any of them could come to support in the given situation, and Vala understood that. She shook her head, and an errant lock of hair fell onto her face. As she tried to brush it away, the restraints held her back once more.

"Are these really necessary?" she asked tiredly.

Mitchell arched his eyebrows at the General, and the older man pondered for a long moment. Eventually, he nodded, somewhat warily. Cam reached for the leather straps around her wrists.

"Leave those on, Colonel!"

He turned towards the high-pitched tone, and the corners of his lips drew downwards in an unpleasant grimace. Before he could reply, however, Daniel sat up from the bed, marched to the smaller man and demanded in a no-nonsense, unfriendly voice.

"What are you doing here, Woolsey?"

**xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

"Get out of my way, Dr. Jackson! I will not be treated this way! I have every right to be here, and our agreement clearly specified _full_ access—"

Daniel and Mitchell exchanged wary glances, suddenly aware of the weight on their shoulders. As the only ones who had witnessed Vala's nightmare, their words could hold her fate. Even more than Cam, Daniel felt responsible for her future…he was the only one who had actually _seen_ the flames of Origin burn behind her tortured gaze that night…or had he really? As the initial shock wore off, and the dire implications of his claim become clearer, doubt began to plague him. Doubt, because his entire being refused to believe Vala could somehow host the Ori. Doubt, because her reprimanding gaze had made him regret telling Landry. But above, doubt because there was something Daniel _hadn't_ told the General.

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_The knowledge of millennia rammed against the barriers in his mind, and part of him shouted for Merlin to let it in, to remove the walls that kept his microscopic human conscience from achieving enlightenment. Yet, another part of him shied away from the enticing shine of the Ori power. He had glimpsed into the fire of Origin for one infinitesimal moment, before the Ancient's protection had shielded him. He had felt the hungry caress of the flames, their sweet poison poured on his thirsty mind. The rest of his time spent as a Prior had been a constant fight against the temptation that the Ori knowledge exerted on him. _

_Like the proverbial moth to a very real, deadly flame. _

_Even after the last traces of them were gone, and his mind was his own once more, he couldn't help feeling a small pang of disappointment._

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_

The room had been dark, the hour late, his own experience as a Prior still fresh in his mind. How certain could he be of what he had seen?

His mind flashed back to the earlier scene, and the hungry light of the Ori fire danced in his mind's eye once more. No, Daniel thought, it had been no illusion, he really _had_ seen the fires of Celestis in Vala's room that night. He then recalled the conflicting dance of temptation from his short time as a Prior. Even Merlin's immensely superior mind had not been able to eliminate a small nagging doubt that maybe, just maybe, the force of Origin did not deserve to be destroyed. Daniel _knew_ he had walked a thin line on the edge of the flaring abyss, fighting with every fiber of his being to shun all the knowledge, all the power…

Oh, the fire had been _real_, as real as the first two times he had glimpsed into it.

But suddenly, Daniel was no longer certain that the haunting image of the Ori flames had come from within Vala.

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**A/N: Still enjoying the story? Please review and let me know what you think so far! **

**Dawn: thank you so much for your comment, I couldn't reply since it was an anonymous review but I just want to let you know how grateful I am for your words! Seriously, I couldn't wipe the goofy grin off my face for a long while after reading your review, it totally made my day!**

**Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to everyone who sent me their thoughts and comments on this story: during a _major_ inspiration crisis (possibly brought about by the _surreal_ workload), reading your words again helped get this chapter out eventually! So, thank you so much! **

**Chapter IV: **

**The Only Choice**

"_Get out of my way, Dr. Jackson! I will _not_ be treated this way! I have every right to be here, and our agreement clearly specified _full_ access—"_

_"This __is none of your business."_

"_I beg to differ! Something important is obviously going on, and in _total_ violation of our agreement, _I_ haven't been informed—"_

"_Yeah, how come you're here then? You got a network of spies set up for you, Woolsey?"_

As he raced desperately down the deserted corridor, Daniel recalled Mitchell's question. A few hours older and many sighs wiser, he could now recognize the seed of truth behind the colonel's sarcastic words.

"_Doctor Jackson, before I go into my office and give Mr. Woolsey _anything_, I want to hear the truth from you."_

"_As the commander of this base, I have my own decision to make…and I choose to support your story. _Because_ you are the only one who knows what he saw, because you have more experience with the Ori than anyone on this base—with the possible exception of Ms. Mal Doran herself, and because I _trust_ you to make the right judgment."_

"_I'm not…sure…of what I saw…not anymore."_

Honesty had seemed like the best response to the General's trust. With a silent sneer, Daniel picked up two Zats and hoped Landry would not speak of this betrayal in his epitaph. Epitaph…? No, no, they would _live_, _he_ would live because at that point, _she_ had no chance without him, and she would live because that was the whole point…wasn't it.

"_Dr. Jackson…I know as well as you do what hangs in balance—"_

_"Do you really?" ...silence... "Anyone who had any contact with the Ori is unavoidably marked by it…I'd suspected that before, really. Their touch…it doesn't just go away."_

_"I understand that…however, I need to know if this is more than just battle scars…if Ms. Mal Doran holds a threat to _billions_ of people…"_

"_This is _not_ just an issue of weighing one person's fate against the 'greater good'!"_

The smoke grenade felt strangely light in his hand, and he fixed it with a wary stare. Whatever great order of things was prescribed for their universe, he was pretty sure they'd taken a wrong turn at some point. And it must have been a very, _very_ wrong one to set _him_, of _all_ people, against an entire base of trained military men. But it had to be that way, there was no other choice, because things had gone so horribly wrong that all the _other_ choices had slipped through his fingers like water from a melting snowball.

He placed the grenade safely in the small backpack and hoped the universe had a plan B, because from the look of things, plan A, as in Assault of the Archaeologist, was doomed to fail miserably.

He wondered how his panicked, irrational mind operating almost entirely on instinct could still contain a sense of humor.

"_Hey, calm down, ok? We don't know what's going on…but we've been up against everything. Snakes in people's heads, bugs, gods, demons and everything in between. And we've always come out on top."_

_"Ever been up against your own people?" _

Mitchell's reassurances had all but wilted at her plaintive question. Vala had hit the nail right on the head, and that even _before_ 'the orders' had arrived. Daniel could envision, in some distant office, the President's hurried signature on an impersonal piece of paper that virtually held Vala's death sentence.

"_She…is to be transferred to a highest-security facility…for containment and investigation…"_

"_Like hell she is, this is a member of _my_ team you're talking about and I—"_

"_Colonel Mitchell."_

"_Sir, we can't—"_

"_General Landry…for what it's worth…I'm sorry…if Ms. Mal Doran is found to pose no danger, she will be retur—"_

"_Save it, Woolsey! We all know how the IOA deals with what they don't understand. They can just go—"_

"Thank you_, Colonel, that will be all." _

As he made sure the gun was loaded (not that he was expecting to use it, but with plan A one could never have too many safety nets), Daniel pondered how that door had been slammed in their faces as wellNo protest, no reassurances, no amount of anger on the part of SG1 would make any difference; they couldn't erase Woolsey's report from existence. The report that had canceled all other options, and left Daniel with no choice.

It was partly their fault, really. Gone into overly defensive mode, they had shut him out, obviously and efficiently. As a consequence, he had milked whatever sources he had found, and forwarded a report based on vague descriptions, worried whispers and unreasonably dire conclusions. The moment that report left the SGC, the dice were cast.

_"Mr. Woolsey, I'm afraid I can not follow the IOA's…r_ecommendations_ on this matter. Whatever your report held, it was incomplete and uninformed! There is _no_ clear indication of _any_ danger—"_

"_General, my superiors feel that the world cannot take the chance. Ms. Mal Doran will be transported to the containment unit as soon as the ship is in range. I have already instructed that the scrambling signals be deactivated…"_

"_Mr. Woolsey, you have no authority here!"_

"_I'm sorry, General…but if you answer that phone on your desk I think you will find out who my instructions come from."_

His heart pounded in his ears, and he was almost afraid the loud beat alone would ruin his attempt at stealth. He squeezed the gun in his hand, and felt his slightly damp fingers slip just a millimeter. _Crazy_, his mind screamed at him, it was all madness. _Madness_! But just as his conscious thought repeated the word over and over, he unconsciously counted the number of guards posted outside the infirmary and registered their positions.

He already knew how many of them were inside, since the last time he had been there to see Vala. Her final words resounded in his head, steadying his resolve.

"_I have never…_never_, Daniel," she had hissed, gritting her teeth to hold back a sob, "taken someone else's word before my own judgment. Yet now…I doubt my own mind because _you_ said it might not be mine anymore."_

Daniel shook his head, felt the small grenade in one hand, and gripped the Zat with the other. Four men outside the infirmary, and at least double that beyond the door. Taking one last, deep breath, he sent a quick memo to the Fates, still hoping they had a plan B.

Then, he pulled the pin.

_And, unbeknownst to Daniel, somewhere in the deeper workings of the universe, where some infinitesimal speck of dust had been set into motion at the colorful core of a random second, many, many worlds ago, plan B was already in motion. _

**A/N: To everyone following this story, thank you for reading! I hope you're still enjoying it! And please, let me know what you think! Your feedback helps improve the story, and as always, I love hearing your thoughts on it. **

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thank you, everyone, for staying with the story! **

**This would probably be a good place for the long overdue announcement that this story happens right after "The Shroud", and none of the episodes after that will be considered (noo, not _even _"Unending"...well maybe just a little bit, this _is _DV after all). Having sent Merlin's weapon through the Supergate, Daniel and the rest of the team successfully defeated the Ori _and _killed Adria.**

**  
Chapter V****: Escape**

_"No one ever did, or ever will, escape the consequences of his choices" _

_(Alfred A. Montapert)_

Vala leaned back against the pillow and tried to subdue the wild drumming in her ears. Feeling a familiar sting behind her eyeslids, she forcefully bit her lip to keep any tears from spilling. Her mind wandered back to many, many years before…

* * *

_Fire was everywhere. Fire and dirt and blood flew all around her, and the shots from the soldiers' long death staffs resounded loudly in her ears. She saw the village bartender hit in the back as he was running for the open cellar of his house, where his wife was signaling desperately. The woman let out a desperate shriek as he fell, and her wail mixed with the weapon fire and the shouts in the cacophonous song of battle. _

_Soon, it was all over. The cheerful, carefree life lost forever for her small village. And for Vala, any life had been lost for the longest of times… For the next years, she had served as host to the Goa'uld Qetesh, roaming the galaxy in an incessant series of crimes and shameless opulence. Then, just as swiftly and painfully as it had all begun, it was over. Suddenly free from the conscience that had suppressed her own for so long, she instinctively fled for home. The village had, over the years, gradually gone back to a quasi-peaceful life…but for Vala, there was no going back. _

_First, there had been confusion among her people…distrustful puzzlement at seeing her alone, without the heavily armed guards and the luxurious entourage that Qetesh had surrounded herself with. Then, as she made it clear that she was entirely alone, their faces had broken into smiles. She'd smiled back for the shortest of moments, until her well-honed instinct had warned that something was terribly wrong. The eyes behind the smiles were not filled with joy, but with hatred and a deep, organic ache for vengeance. She would not get her warm welcome._

* * *

She chocked back a furious sob as the memory washed over her. She could not stand the small gleam of suspicion behind Sam's gaze. The memory of Daniel's wary expression made her stomach curl into a small, icy ball. Oh, their mistrust was perfectly fine when she'd stolen the _Prometheus_. She could take their doubt when she'd conned them into hunting for the Ancient treasure. But this time, it was different. 

The leather straps around her wrists did not cause her any pain, yet she felt as though they burnt through her skin. Their simple meaning was worse than many tortures she had lived in her long, restless life. The memories of her village came back again, and she involuntarily shuddered. A quick glace revealed the eight guards still in the room, exchanging uneasy looks. Anxiety welled within Vala. Would her friends react the same way as her people had, so many years before? Once, she had prayed never to see the same murderous glance in the eyes of her nearest and dearest again.

Was it her destiny to lose her home to doubt and hatred?

Why did she always end up as the unwilling impersonator of all that her family, her friends feared and despised?

Her face barely showed her inner turmoil, and her body was still. But inside, Vala feverishly swore she would never live to see the same thing happen to her again. Gods, real or false, be damned, she would no longer be their helpless vessel!

* * *

_Silence had reigned in the secluded area of the SGC infirmary that held Vala Mal Doran under heavy guard. Then Dr. Jackson had stridden inside, his jaw set in grim determination._

"_Vala." _

_Sergeant Marston, highest in rank among the eight guards assigned to watch the newest member of SG1, had felt somewhat surprised that Dr. Jackson had not even acknowledged his greeting upon entering. _

"_Yes."_

_Grim-faced, the archaeologist had marched purposefully towards them. He was suited in full battle gear, and the Sergeant had briefly wondered if SG1 was about to go on another mission. Strange time for a visit. Still, it was not his job to ask questions. (what was Dr. Jackson holding in his hand, just out of sight?) _

"_Do you still trust me?"_

_The Sergeant had been intrigued by the question, though he never would have shown it. The woman's answer had come almost instinctively._

"_Yes."_

"_Then close your eyes and hold your breath."_

_By the time the words had registered on the Sergeant, it was too late. A bright blue light had erupted in the room, followed by complete darkness. None of the guards had been conscious by the time Daniel set off the smoke grenade as an extra caution._

* * *

He wished he'd taken a second to check the guards before setting off the smoke screen. It had seemed like a good idea in case any of them were still conscious and wanted to open fire—but now, the smoke just hurt his eyes and his throat, and prevented him from moving quickly enough. As he finally reached Vala, her eyes shot open. The smoke was dispersing, but it was still enough to make her blink rapidly and let out a few dry coughs. 

"Wha—Daniel…?"

He grabbed her wrists and feverishly pulled at the leather restraints. It should not have been so hard to loosen them. But his fingers shook with urgency and apprehension, and it took longs seconds that felt like hours to free just one of her hands. With the same agitated, erratic movements, he rushed to the undo the other strap. Before he could reach it, however, she wrapped her free hand around his and squeezed hard. Pulling herself up until their faces were mere inches apart, she met his frantic gaze with eyes wide in shock.

"Daniel. What are you doing…"

"We're getting out of here," he replied matter-of-factly and suddenly Vala could think of nothing more to say.

"Oh."

She let go of his hand, and he undid the other restraint. Once that was done, they were left staring at each other, Vala in a half-sitting position, with Daniel slightly bent over her infirmary bed, his chest almost touching her knees. Around them, the smoke was starting to clear, but not quite enough to chase away the surreal white haze that lingered thick above the floor. Like a rich, plushy insulation, it separated the two of them from the rest of the world.

"What now?" Vala whispered.

It could have been the adrenaline, could have been some stray toxin in the smoke, or maybe just Daniel's lovably faltering look that made her feel almost giddy.

"Now…we get out of here."

Despite the dire situation, he saw her lips press together in a small smirk. The woman was unbelievable! Couldn't she tell how their already crazy world was spiraling down around them at sickening speeds? Couldn't she tell they were trapped in a cycle rapidly leading to disaster? Couldn't she…

…oh, to _hell_ with all that, chaos worked just fine for them, and suddenly all the bizarre mayhem they were diving headfirst into made sense. So what if Scylla and Charybdis were closing in so fast it made him dizzy? He _knew_, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that somehow, they'd come through unscathed, because it was the will of…_whatever_. If he'd taken out eight trained military men, _anything_ was fair game in this insane little dance the two of them had going against the base, all odds, and any form of logic or reason.

"Got a problem with that plan?" he eventually retorted.

Her countenance became serious.

"Well, Daniel, you were the one suggesting I was _possessed_ only a day ago and now you're on _my_ side all of a sudden? Not that I don't appreciate it, but" she looked at the smoke-filled room and the unconscious guards, "you could've just _told_ them you were wrong and—oh." She noticed his expression, and took an educated guess. "Tried that, didn't work? Of course", she rolled her eyes. "But they had to believe you at _some_ point, I mean how long could they _possibly_ hold me here—oh." As he nodded silently, she put the pieces together and grimaced unhappily. "Ohhh. Well, _that_ changes everything."

His unusually aggressive plan suddenly made sense. Until her eyes fell on the guards again, and the badges on their uniforms seemed to stand out from beneath the smoke.

"This is crazy…" Vala whispered. "Daniel, these are your people, both our friends…they're the _good_ guys…"

"Someone should remind them that…" he replied with some bitterness, remembering the hollow sound of Landry's voice.

_Yes, Mr. President…_

"Daniel…look at me…"

"Vala, now's not the time, we have to hurry bef—"

"_Look_ at me," she demanded again. All her instincts screamed that she was mad, that they had no time to waste, that she should just follow him wherever he lead. It was the way things were _meant_ to be, the will of the Fates. The only choice, the…

Slowly, in quiet resignation, she put her hands over his.

"This isn't us…" she whispered.

And space around the two of them seemed to twist at her words, growing smaller and smaller, until it seemed that the entire universe was only a teardrop of reality, a bubble just large enough to fit their bodies, and even time had slowed to a stop.

Then Daniel nodded almost imperceptibly, and the same acknowledgment shone distantly behind his gaze, as he spoke quietly.

"I can't let them kill you, Vala."

"_You_ can't…?" Doubt echoed in her words. "Or is it the Ori—"

"Don't you dare," he hissed angrily, "don't you _dare_ think that, Vala."

She kept silent for a long moment, staring at the Zat gun fixed on his belt.

"We can choose not to do this, Daniel."

"Yes…" He cupped her chin and slowly turned her face towards him. "But let's save that choice for when we really need it."

She actually laughed a little at that, once more pointing to the wrecked infirmary and the guards.

"You don't think we need to stop this _now_?"

"No," he explained patiently, "I think we need to stay alive right now, and deal with the rest of this mess later."

Her eyes fell on the gun again, and she reached a hand to touch its cold surface. For the first time, she became aware of the perfunctory beeping of some machine or other, and the steady buzz from the air-conditioner. The place sounded so…normal, so familiar, so utterly day-to-day and safe. Then her fingers brushed against the cool gun again, and Vala winced.

"A veritable break-out, guns and all…so are we going to fire on the people on this base? Are you really okay with that?"

The corners of his lips drew downwards as he pondered the question he had consciously kept at bay for so long. Part of him denied it, part of him found it ridiculous, and surprisingly, part of him found it impossible to focus on anything with one of her hands resting on his own, and the other one still touching the gun on his belt.

"I don't know, Vala," he eventually admitted with a tired shrug.

"But we have a choice, Daniel…don't you feel that we can end this right here?"

"I don't think I'd like that ending very much."

She wrapped her arms around herself, silently admitting she agreed with him. His words made so much sense, and it was all she could do to keep questioning them, when all she really wanted was to just to end that discussion and face whatever short-term future they were heading into. She saw him wearily massage his temples as he sat on the edge of the bed, and knew his own mind was just as divided between doubt, certainty and need. The path they were about to walk was wrong in too many ways to count, and would most likely end in disaster for both of them. But it was the only choice. They were completely trapped.

And like any being born free, in any corner of any world, Vala reacted badly to being trapped. And with every fiber screaming that she will not surrender her freedom, with every instinct commanding that she fight her way out of the corner they had pushed her into, with every thought of her endangered life outweighing all other considerations and every emotion distorted by adrenaline, her decision came as no surprise whatsoever.

"I hope you have a good plan."

"Find out what the Ori have done and get this mess cleared up. After we get off this base without getting caught, that is."

"In that case, you might want to give me one of those big guns," she grimaced, and he gave her a warning look.

"Vala, you do know that we won't _shoot_ anyone…"

"And just hope they show the same consideration…? Good plan," she deadpanned, and Daniel rolled his eyes.

"Come on, let's go. I have a feeling this is going to feel crazier with every second that passes by and I can't change my mind until we're out of danger."

"Darling, we're _never_ out of danger," she reasonably pointed out.

"Immediate danger," he amended with a lopsided nod, then straightened himself and said in his best business tone. "We should hurry."

Vala caught his arm again, and her expression grew serious once more.

"Daniel…" she bit her lower lip, struggling to find the right words. "I…"

"I know," he whispered back, then nodded softly and repeated the words with more conviction. "I know." They shared another short, silent moment before he urged again. "Now come on…you wanted to see the rest of my plan."

* * *

**AN: So, anyone here betting on Daniel succeeding in his plan? We'll see how that goes in the next chapter. Meanwhile, I would love to hear your thoughts:) Thank you for reading!**

**Until next time,  
Myosotis**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks so much for staying with the story! As always, it was wonderful to read your feedback:) ** **  
**

**Chapter VI: Against Your Own **

_"To swim an ocean against the tide, only to drown in the shallow waters near the shore" _

_(Old Portuguese Proverb) _

"Are you insane? They _know_ we'll go to the gate room first!"

"Yes, and they also know that we know that they know. So they're probably focusing on the emergency exits that lead to the forest outside."

"_Or_, they know that we know that they know that—_argh_!"

"Sometimes you just have to tell how long that chain of causality is."

"Great. When they _hang_ us by it, I'll make sure to bring a measuring tape."

Daniel rolled his eyes, giving her a warning glare as two unwitting airmen passed them by. Luckily, the General had ordered highest discretion on the whole situation; aside from SG1, the infirmary night-shift and the men assigned to guard Vala, no one was supposed to know about the crisis. Rumors had obviously circulated, Daniel could tell by the covert glances that people shot them, but no rumor could reflect the grave reality. He was reasonably sure that none of the airmen who passed by suspected that they were nodding friendly greetings to two soon-to-be heads of the "most wanted" list. Even so, his and Vala's strange outfits and agitated stances drew too much attention, and the corridors were much too populated for the late hour.

The two men disappeared around a corner, and Daniel allowed his tense shoulders to relax just a little bit.

"We just passed an emergency exit hatch," Vala whispered, "I say we just use it to get out!"

He turned to her without slowing down. Each step was taking them closer to the gate room; yet the closer they came, the warier he grew. They'd been lucky enough not to run into anyone who knew the details of their situation that far…but going anywhere near the gate room was stretching that luck. Still, there was no choice, and he wanted to make that clear to her.

"If we go to the surface, we're stuck there. With no way of finding out what happened to us and to the Ori, and hunted by every authority on the _planet_," he hissed emphatically. "Someone will find us sooner or later, and with our luck, it won't be our people."

"But—"

They had only one more corner to turn before reaching the gate room when Daniel suddenly stopped in his tracks and put his hands on her shoulders with a brusque gesture.

"Vala, sooner or later those guards will come to, and we'll have a manhunt to deal with!" With a short sigh, he gently squeezed her shoulders. "Our only real chance is to go through the gate before that happens."

The next second, the loud wail of the general alert reverberated throughout the SGC. Vala's eyes widened.

"I'd say we missed our exit," she remarked dryly.

"Come on," he took her hand, and rushed down the hall towards the gate room. He could swear he heard the last grains of sand trickle through a cosmic hourglass, as their time ran out.

* * *

_"Don't move, Walter, please. Vala, start the dialing sequence."_

_"Wha—Doctor Jackson—but—security—" _

_ "Surprisingly lax near the gate room, isn't it? Don't worry, Walter—" _

_ "_Vala_. We're on a bit of a schedule here." _

_ "It's _dialing_, Daniel, do you want me to go out and _push_ it?" _

_ "Very funny." _

_ The vortex had sprung to life in the room below them, and Daniel's heart had raced faster than ever. That was it, they'd done it! He'd motioned her out of the room, his gun still trained on the bewildered Walter. _

_ "Sorry, Walter," he'd winced, quickly backing out of the room, "but I'll have to lock you out of gate control. Uhm, and if you could apologize to four men outside for me…" _

_ Seconds later, the heavy metal doors to the gate room had slid open, and they had sprinted towards the vortex, still not quite believing that Daniel's insane plan had worked…_

* * *

"Hold it! Don't move!"

Vala froze, one foot on the iron ramp leading to the Stargate. A cold wave of fear washed over her, just as Daniel clenched his fists with a sharp intake. The blue vortex rippled steadily just a few feet away. They were _so_ close.

The sound of running footsteps echoed down the hall, and a second later, Mitchell rushed into the gate room, his alert eyes taking in everything in less than an instant. The four armed men had their guns nervously trained on the two fugitives, but the colonel knew they were under orders not to fire anything more powerful than a Zat-gun. They wouldn't shoot. Unfortunately, one look at the archaeologist's determined expression revealed that he knew that just as well as Mitchell did.

" Jackson…"

_Don't make me choose_, the colonel silently pleaded. He had seen the defiant gleam in Vala's eyes, the mocking twinkle behind her wary gaze. She held the fight for lost, yet she would plot an even more daring escape just as she hostilely deferred to their temporary victory. It was the stubbornly underhanded way of one seasoned in defeat as well as triumph, Mitchell knew.

Sadly, he knew just as well that it would not be Jackson's way that day. As he met the other man's eyes once more, the colonel knew that he _would_ have to choose.

"Vala…" Daniel's voice was barely audible, and even she had to strain to hear it. "On my mark…just make a run for it…"

Her eyes widened slightly, but she could not bring herself to doubt his words. They were _so_ close. The vortex shone tauntingly just beyond their reach; its blue light faintly reflected off the guns pointed in their direction. She met Daniel's gaze, and emotion flowed between them, some of it raw and alien, some of it not so much, a consuming fire and a security blanket at the same time.

Mitchell's mind raced. For their own good, he knew he couldn't let them go through the gate, yet a cold, ominous feeling settled in his stomach. Daniel's steely determination foreshadowed tragedy, for himself first and foremost. The man had to be stopped, and there was only one way to keep him from attempting to escape through the gate.

Cam swallowed hard and raised his Zat gun in Vala's direction, and she brought up her own gun, out of sheer instinct and a mere instant faster, and the air in the room was suddenly alight with tension, so fraught that she could have sworn it crackled and rattled under the strain, and Vala noted with some surprise that it really _did_, except it wasn't the tension in the air…

_Ever been up against your own people? _

_ These are our people…they're the good guys! _

_ Someone should remind them that. _

…what she was hearing was the inexorable echo of a gun, but it couldn't be, because Vala knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that she would _never_…

_You _do_ know that we won't shoot anyone... _

_…both our friends… _

_ Ever been up against your own people? _

…never, never, no matter what, not as long as there was a single fiber of her being with a free will, and for an infinitesimal moment, relief coursed through her at the certainty that it _hadn't_ been her, that _she_ would never—

Then an alarm went off in her mind.

_ We can end this right here? _

_ …don't think I'd like that ending very much. _

And Daniel could do nothing but watch in horror as one of the overwrought airmen squeezed the trigger, and a train of bullets raced, agonizing and unalterable, towards Vala, and even though his frantic mind called out to her, he knew that he could never reach her in time.

* * *

**A/N: To anyone who thought Vala had shot Cam (or the other way around?)...my apologies and a virtual cookie for putting you through that! (_did _anyone think so...?) Thank you for reading, and please send me your thoughts on this latest chapter! **

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful beta-reader, Dawn! It would have taken me a lot longer to post it (and everyone probably a lot longer to make sense of it!) if it hadn't been for her. **

**--Plan B—**

"_Ever tried, ever failed, no matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better."_

_(Samuel Beckett)_

The airman's finger twitched on the trigger.

"_I don't think I'd like that ending very much."_

A loud echo, then the frightening silence.

"_This isn't us…"_

"_I can't let them kill you, Vala."_

Daniel heard his own ragged shout, and for a fraction of a second, the bullets flew in slow motion, leaving the black gun barrel in a merciless flock. He saw Vala's body instinctively stiffen, and Mitchell's eyes widen, as the unforgiving pieces of metal raced through the air still.

"_Do you still trust me?"_

"_Yes."_

He reached for her with his arms, with his entire body, with his entire being, and cursed his human flesh for being so slow, because he knew he would never move in time to shield her. His outstretched hands were still inches away from her body when the bullets whirred by his trembling fingertips.

Then Daniel's world exploded in red, hot flames, as his frantic mind screamed, and he could almost hear Vala's own shout of denial reverberate within his conscience, and their eyes met for the briefest of seconds.

And the bullets froze inches from her chest, hungry for a contact they would never make.

Then Daniel's body caught up with his mind, and he slammed against Vala's body, his weight and momentum driving both of them down to the floor. She let out a small gasp as she hit the ground, and had just enough time to turn her gaze upwards, where the bullets still hung, frozen in midair, before a cold, consuming fire erupted into life all around them, and the world seem to dissolve in a hot, blinding light.

* * *

Sam rushed into the gate room just in time to witness the strained airman spasmodically fire on Vala, and her mind was still trying to process that sickening scene when she saw the bullets freeze in midair. A circle of flames sprang to life around Daniel and Vala, and she had just enough time to wonder, _where did that come from…who…_ Teal'c, a second behind her, reached perhaps half of that question, and the General did not have time to think anything at all before the hot light hit them. 

Having followed the General, Woolsey and Walter stepped inside the gate room just in time to notice the explosion of light, and it enveloped the two of them together with everyone else. And they would never know how lucky they had been.

* * *

The ship dispatched by the IOA to pick up Vala was just taking off when it suddenly lost reception. It hovered, silent and disoriented above the secret landing platform, then abruptly plummeted downwards, spiraling out of control towards the thick forest below. When it crashed in the forest, no one heard it fall, so that might as well not have happened at all.

* * *

In one of the central offices of the IOA, a grey-haired man sat up from his chair, only to grip his left arm with a painful gasp, reach a shaking hand to the phone on the desk, and fall to the floor with a dull thud, as his heart abruptly ceased functioning. A few floors above him, an elevator suddenly froze, then plummeted downward in the shaft, breaking all safety stops and sending five more people to their deaths. Lights blinked, all computers reset, and in the office where the grey-haired man lay lifeless, a stack of papers on the edge of the desk suddenly erupted into flames, burning to the very last letter, and the ashes floated, barely visible, to the floor.

* * *

The golden-red light expanded through the gate room, flowing rapidly and efficiently, until it had touched every single corner of the base, slithered beneath each door and filtered through every cranny. A pipe vibrated slightly above the SGC infirmary, before abruptly breaking, and gas slowly leaked into the room, until the night shift personnel and the guards unfortunate enough to have stayed dropped to the floor, never having stood a chance. And then the light rushed backwards just as violently, folding in on itself, until it was nothing more than a bright spark hovering in the gate room, and then that spark extinguished, as thought it had never existed.

* * *

She first became aware of a body weighing her down, and gasped for breath just as the weight suddenly vanished, to be replaced by a hand slowly shaking her shoulder, just as a voice rang through the haze in her mind. The words weren't quite making sense yet, but she responded to the timbre and the touch that she knew all too well. 

"Daniel…?"

Opening her eyes, she saw his somewhat disconcerted face staring down at her with some concern. One of his arms was caught beneath her body, and she sorely rolled over, freeing it; then she propped an elbow on the floor and pushed herself up. All around, SGC personnel was doing the same thing, and Vala found it utterly puzzling that they were all lying on the cold floor of the gate room. A few feet away, Mitchell was slowly standing up, and she shot him a questioning glance, only to receive one in reply. Further away, near the door, some more airmen were dazedly picking themselves up from the floor, looking bemusedly towards Sam, Teal'c and the General, none of whom looked any less flustered.

"What's going on here!" Woolsey indignant voice came from behind Landry, just as the little man grabbed the door for support, dusting himself off as he stood up. "General, what just happened!"

Vala missed Landry's reply, as she became aware of Daniel's body still in contact with hers. She swallowed hard, meeting his eyes with an unsure expression. He frowned slightly, then shook his head as if to chase away an unwelcome thought.

"You okay?"

"Mmhm," she nodded, straightening her back and checking for any pains or injuries, of which she fortunately found none. "You?"

"Fine…I _think_," Daniel replied after a second. "What's going on?"

Sam was eyeing the scene with her mouth slightly open, and her eyebrows shot upwards in her usual expression of intrigue. Teal'c scanned the room keenly, his entire body alert, yet he could find nothing out of the ordinary.

"I have no recollection of what has transpired," he answered Daniel's question, and nods of agreement came from all around.

"Well…this must have been some party—ow!" Vala had just placed a hand of the floor, ready to get up, when she winced in pain, and Daniel immediately turned alert eyes to her.

"What's wrong?"

"Something _stung_ me," she whined, lifting her hand off the floor and picking up something that had rested beneath her open palm. "Well. Isn't this interesting," she remarked dryly, handing Daniel a small bullet. "And look, there's more of them."

"Alright, people. Nobody touch anything," Landry ordered. "We're going to get to the bottom of this."

* * *

Except they didn't. 

_"SG1, who do we know that could have done this?"_

_"A _lot_ of people, Sir. With all the memory devices going around—"_

_"We're not talking about implanting a false memory here. There were _sixteen_ people in that room, with no idea whatsoever of what happened in the last thirty hours or so." _

They never figured out why they had all gathered in the gate room that night. All personnel had been called in to give a report, yet none could offer more than rumors that something had been going on that involved SG1. One airman had heard that one of the team had been taken ill with some alien virus and rushed to the infirmary. Another had seen Dr. Jackson and Vala heading on a mission, wearing grim expressions, right before the alarms had gone off. One mess hall employee swore he had heard that Dr. Jackson had punched Woolsey, and an angry sergeant just _knew_ the IOA were meddling in their affairs again, and there, nothing good had come of that!

Three and a half hours after they had all woken up in the gate room, the General still had no answers, when more questions poured his way.

Apparently, an electromagnetic shock had disrupted all machines at the IOA headquarters, causing several people to die in an elevator accident and one of the top persons to succumb to a malfunctioning pacemaker. Computers had crashed, data had been lost. Rumors were flying around the Advisory, but none of them had enough substance; nothing could prove a connection between the two incidents.

The IOA had pointed fingers at _them_, tried to come up with a conspiracy theory, but with no actual data to rely on, little came of that. People had died, they said, but then, people had died at the SGC as well. The unfortunate gas leak had killed the infirmary night staff and several other men. Fingers were being pointed in all directions, because everyone knew that there was no such thing as _coincidences_.

_"Sir, a geomagnetic anomaly _could_ have caused the IOA incident and the blink in our systems…but both? The distortion affected only us and them, Sir. It could not have occurred on such precise perimeter without outside interference."_

Outside interference. Everyone's fingers had stopped on that. The deep-space sensors and all planetary surveillance equipment had blinked with the alleged geomagnetic anomaly. Earth's defenses ran hot, strategists gathered behind closed doors, Sam got called back to Washington and the IOA chose to ignore the vague suspicions of SGC involvement, because it was the _convenient_ way. Accusations without facts were muddy and bothersome. People had died, yes, but people were expendable. Others had already filled the vacant positions. Investigations ran on all sides, but most of them focused on the theory of enemy forces having caused the geomagnetic shock to weaken planetary defenses. Ba'al was a suspect. So were the Ori ships. Even the Trust. But at the end of the day, none of the big people in Washington could tell for sure what had happened.

Four days after they had woken up in the gate room, the General still had no answers. Everyone had been declared in perfect health, no residual traces of any substance or virus that could have caused the memory loss. No strange implants. No subconscious prompts. Nothing. Sweeps had been conducted through every single corner of the SGC. And when those revealed nothing, the quarantine had eventually been lifted.

Investigations still unfolded, but there was only so much that they could reveal on suspected alien interference. Then one of them uncovered a covert, IOA-sponsored project involving a yet-unstable hybrid of energy weapons and phase technology.

Two days and a lot of incensed discussions later, the IOA called off all inquiries to avoid further indiscretions. Accidents happened, that was their official conclusion. A malfunctioning ship, a faulty pacemaker, a computer virus that would eventually be traced to some unsuspecting technology department employee. Weighed against political interests, that was close to nothing, and not worth pursuing. Accidents happened.

As for Landry, he displayed a saintly thoroughness and a draconian mood, and had reached absolutely no conclusions. With only sixteen people suffering from the memory loss while everyone else claimed that nothing out of the ordinary had happened, and the none-too-subtle pressures from the IOA, he was forced to eventually drop the issue. About ten days after the incident, an SGC checked and scanned and swept and checked again just for good measure reentered normal functioning regime.

So it happened that, sixteen days after the flame of the Ori fire had extinguished above their unsuspecting heads, Daniel and Vala stepped into the gate room ready for a new mission, gave each other a long look, then simultaneously looked away as they walked through the Stargate shoulder by shoulder.

**(End of Part One)**

**A/N: No, no, no, put those torches and pitchforks down please! This is **_**not**_** the ending; in fact, it's really the beginning. Everything that happened this far was originally intended to take about one chapter (wishful thinking, eh?), but this story had other ideas. Anyway, I would never leave you hanging like this, but until the next chapter is up, I would love to hear your thoughts on this one! Thank you for staying with the story! **

**Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: After a long and torturing period of being incommunicado, I had the brilliant idea of calling Sam. She used my toaster and a bent hairclip to whip up a brand new modem, so here we are again! The second part of the story begins, with (over)due apologies on my part for the long wait! **

**My thanks to everyone who is still following this story, and of course to my lovely, incredibly patient and very prompt beta-reader, Dawn! **

**Chapter VIII: New Days Dawn**

_Beginnings are always messy._

_(John Galsworthy)_

As the group reached the other side of the gate, the day greeted them warm and sunny.Mitchell idly pondered how he had spent more time outdoors on other planets than he ever had in the town where he lived. In fact, standing there, basking in the warm glow,he was hard-pressed to remember the last time he had enjoyed a spring day back on Earth.

General O'Neill had seeded that thought in his head. It was during one of their talks that the older man had jokingly admitted how he could recognize and name birds native to P3X-_something_, but upon walking into a flower shop was unable to identify anything beyond roses. Cam had dutifully browsed some botany encyclopedias for a couple of days after that talk, then had purposefully marched into a flower shop and asked for a gladioli while confidently pointing at a bunch of dahlias. Eventually, he gave up; after all, if the General could live with it…

When he finally found out that O'Neill had actually been _kidding _and—

"No, Vala, for the _tenth_ time, I'm _not_ sure this is the best idea." Jackson's exasperated tone brought Mitchell out of his musings. "But we need to know how the planets who have accepted Origin are reacting to the destruction of the Ori."

The brunette gave him a long look.

"Do you _really_ think these people actually know _anything_ about that?"

"That's exactly what we're here to find out," Mitchell reminded her. "Just how close an eye the Ori, or the Priors, were keeping on these planets."

"Yes", Daniel jumped in, "because if the Ori are really gone, these people will finally be able to resume their normal lives—"

"Now, Jackson…" Cam shot the archaeologist a warning glance. "Remember what we agreed on: no telling the villagers anything, not until we're sure where they stand."

"Yeah," Daniel frowned, "we didn't exactly _agree_ on that…"

"Daniel…" Sam gave him a meaningful look, "remember someof the reactions we got when we told people the truth about the Goa'uld."

"There's still some who would tear you to bits for speaking ill of their 'gods'," Vala provided.

"That hasn't stopped us before," Daniel pointed out, and Mitchell recognized the ironic, singsong tone that inevitably announced—

"Yes, and how many times _before_ did you _die_, again, Daniel?"

"I'm sorry, are you lecturing me on _caution_? Remind me again who flew that ship into the supergate…"

—the onset of one of _those_ verbal matches.

Mitchell rolled his eyes.

"Will you two ever stop this old married couple routine?" he asked dryly. _That_ usually shut them up. Surely enough, Daniel's mouth snapped shut, and Vala looked as though she was about to stick her tongue out at him. "Now, as we agreed, we'll just try to stay out of trouble and observe how things are going in this village. With a bit of luck, the people will just gradually slip back to their old lives, and forget they were ever forced to worship some pyromaniac ascended beings."

"Or some fanatic will rise and maybe start a new crusade," Vala suggested grimly, and Mitchell held up a warning finger.

"Ah! Let's keep a positive attitude, shall we? Besides, these are peaceful people."

"You'd be surprised what the Ori do to the gentlest of people," Vala murmured, more to herself than to anyone else; he felt a pang of sympathy at her bitter tone.

The discussion died down after her last words, and for a short while they walked in silence, each wrapped up in his or her own thoughts. Instinctively, Cam and Sam had taken the lead of their small group, with Teal'c following them in his ever-alert stance. Daniel and Vala brought up the rear, having unconsciously fallen into stride with each other. Soon, the first houses came into view, at the base of a small, woody hill, and SG1 strode purposefully towards the entrance to the village.

**

* * *

**

A blue energy bolt whirred by his ear, striking a nearby tree, and bits of burnt bark stung his skin. Ducking as low as he could, he continued running through the shaded forest, one eye on his team and the other out for any more staff blasts. Fortunately for them, the trees and the rough terrain seemed to have stalled their pursuers.

"Goddammit, Jackson!" Mitchell yelled, having deemed it safe enough to stop for a moment behind a massive fallen tree stump. He turned a menacing glare to the archaeologist. "What happened to keeping a low profile and not stirring these people up!"

"They were going to _burn_ you alive, Mitchell! And the rest of us with you, most likely," Daniel retorted with an equally scathing glare.

"Come on, Daniel, we couldn't have known," Sam pointed out reasonably, "walking in during their…'prostration' was an honest mistake."

"And starting to preach about how the Ori are false gods, and/or 'dead, anyway' was _what_, exactly, Jackson?" Mitchell shook his head, swearing he would henceforth bring ample reserves of duct tape on all their missions. "They were just slightly hysterical, we could have talked our way out of it, damn _prostrated_ if that was what it took! They weren't going to just _burn_ us—"

"Oh-ho…I beg to differ." Vala's ironic tone was somewhat undermined, as she was still catching her breath after the chase. "I talk from experience when I say…if you hear 'unbelievers' and 'overcome'…? There's a _serious_ bonfire in your—_very_—short-term future."

Before any of them could speak again, angry shouts came from somewhere to their right, and a chorus of frustrated cries echoed from further away to the left. Mitchell and Daniel fired another short glare at each other, and both rolled their eyes. Checking his weapon for ammo, Cam gave a short nod.

"Alright, we're pulling the plug on this mission."

"We can still get through to these people," Daniel argued, earning himself a quirked eyebrow from the team leader.

"Not after _you_ decided to play Nietzsche—_yes_, Jackson, we had a philosophy requirement in _pilot school_—"

"Obviously not a _diplomacy_ requirement as well," Daniel shot back.

With a menacing scowl, Mitchell opened his mouth to reply, when Vala waved a hand between the two of them.

"Fascinating as this little alpha-male thing is," she sang, with a saucy wink in Teal'c's direction (_'don't worry, Muscles, they've got nothing on you'_), "I think we need to worry about the angry mob out there right now, you boys can measure—"

"_Anyway_!" Sam cut her off, raising her palms in a warning gesture. She quickly recovered: "We're headed in the opposite direction from the gate. We need to find a way to go back—"

"—without running into our slightly upset friends, yes, that sounds like a plan."

Vala turned an incredulous look to Mitchell.

"_That_ sounds like a plan to you? And they put you in command of a team…" she sighed wistfully, a poorly concealed smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Fortunately, you've got me, an _expert_ at quick, successful plans!"

He rolled his eyes, turning to her with an expectative look.

"Alright, let's hear it, Napoleon!"

"Well, I was thinking that two of us—"

A bright, blue light enveloped them and a second later the sunny woods and crisp morning air had faded, to be replaced by darkness and the musty atmosphere of a confined space.

"—can split up and distract…" Her voice trailed off, as she took in the new surroundings, and she gave a lopsided nod. "Or, _this_ works, too."

**

* * *

**

_"Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."_

_L. Frank Baum, 'The Wizard of Oz'_

* * *

The light from Mitchell's flashlight was the first to tear through the heavy darkness. Weapon close at hand, he cautiously swiveled on his heels, checking out their immediate vicinity. As the others turned on their flashlights, the place grew slightly less dim, and they could make out the rough, muddy rock walls surrounding them. Cam frowned. This definitely wasn't Kansas anymore. 

"Okay, question one…how did we get here?"

"Where _is_ here?" Sam wondered, squinting at the uneven rock ceiling above them. It looked quite thick, and a hard to define feeling of heaviness told her that they were underground.

Daniel's flashlight discovered something akin to a corridor spreading ahead of them, and he cautiously called out.

"Is anyone there?"

"I wouldn't be so loud, Daniel…", Vala dryly noted.

"Why not?" Instinctively, he adopted the slightly tetchy tone he often used in their frequent squabbles. "If there is anyone here, we need—"

"If there is anyone here," Vala interrupted, "_they_ need some **serious **interior design tips."

To prove her point, she aimed her flashlight to the floor with a meaningful quirk of her eyebrows. The beam reflected off a multitude of white, time-worn bones scattered amongst the dust-covered rocks. Teal'c picked up a bone fragment.

"Human," he informed them, searching their surroundings with a suspicious eye.

Everyone's hands tightened on their weapons, as they instinctively fell into defense formation, backs to each other and forming a circle. As nothing indicated an imminent attack, they continued to examine the place in the hope of some answers.

"It looks like we're in a cave of sorts," Sam suggested. "One that hasn't been visited in a while,by the looks of those bones. Maybe they were its old inhabitants?"

"The question still is, how did we get here?" Cam frowned.

"Maybe another anti-Goa'uld device?" Sam offered.

"You're thinking Thor's hammer," Daniel realized, and Sam shrugged in silent confirmation. "Okay…except I think we would've noticed a ten-foot high hammer in the woods, right?"

"Maybe they made it a little less obvious this time," Vala piped in.

"No, that wouldn't make any sense," he explained. "Thor wanted the Goa'uld to _know_ they were supposed to stay off the planet. Besides, why place such a device in the forest? No one who knows anything about the Goa'uld would expect them to go trudging through the woods…"

"Fair point," Mitchell nodded. "So what _was_ it that sent us here, then?"

"Or _who_," Sam pointed out.

"The Ori?" Cam frowned doubtfully. "They're supposed to be dead, there was no Prior back there, and this doesn't look like their style, anyway."

"Wonder where this leads to," Vala started walking down the corridor that Daniel had first discovered. "If this _is_ a cave, maybe the exit is that way."

As the small room they had found themselves in seemed to hold nothing but dusty walls and the old bones, they all agreed that exploring the corridor was the best course of action. It looked no different than any other cave tunnel, with uneven, tilting walls, muddy rock outcrops and the faint sensation of claustrophobia that accompanied them. They were all excited to find another round, room-like space some fifty feet down, but it held no more answers than the one they had started from. Vala spotted a human skull and the remains of some rusty blade, together with a few moldy pieces of clothing that could not tell them much. A vaguely rectangular stone slab near the left wall reminded them of a bed, and some niches could have once been used as shelves. Sam tried to imagine the place a couple of centuries before.

"People must have lived here once."

"Good! That means there must be a way out," Vala deduced.

"I'm still more interested in the way _in_," Daniel commented. "Somehow, I don't think these people ever had the technology to transport us here from the woods."

They continued down the cave corridor, stopping every so often to examine a larger cranny or a false bifurcation. Although nothing thus far had indicated that there was someone in there other than them, they remained wary, gripping their weapons before every turn of the passage.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: Don't worry, while SG1 might have forgotten how this story started out, I most certainly did not! All answers will come in due time (of course, questions are welcome _all_ the time!). Until then, I can't wait to hear your thoughts on this latest chapter! Thank you for reading! **

**Myosotis**


	9. Chapter 9

**Fuel to the Fire**

_Ce qui s'aime se taquine._

_(French saying)_

"—not get so excited over some local superstitions!"

"I'm just saying, maybe these prophecies actually tell us something!"

"Yes, the predictions of an old cave-dwelling society that used a rudimentary symbol language—"

"—so narrow-minded—"

"—absolutely ridiculous—"

Mitchell fought the urge to bang his head against one of the rudimentary engraved cave walls. If only a murderous army of cave creatures had attacked them before entering the damned 'prophecies' room…! When he'd signed on for leadership of SG1, he had most certainly _not_ agreed to play referee to a snarky archaeologist and a zany alien chick.

"—thought you _enjoyed_ spending hours deciphering messages—"

"—no idea where we _are_, in case you forgot, and we'd better focus—"

Jackson and Vala had always been a bit of a powder keg and match together, but recently their squabbles had reached new levels. Now the two seemed to completely forget the outside world as they engaged in biting, precipitate exchanges. Cam was all _for_ friendly team banter, but those two were so out there that he sometimes felt tempted to pop a bag of corn and just watch incredulously as they tennis-balled an argument while still in the midst of an all-out battle.

The third cave room they had visited had fueled their bickering this time. Clumsily drawn symbols adorned the walls, and after a bit of study Jackson had declared them to be a pre-developed form of sign language typical in the early phases of a society. Apparently, they represented predictions of what the inhabitants thought would happen. As an archeological discovery, Mitchell could see why it would be interesting, but given their circumstances, it had to wait. Unfortunately, the archeologist had snapped at Vala at the wrong moment, sending her on an ego crusade to prove him wrong on some account or other.

"Maybe the prophecies indicate our way out of here!"

"Okay, first off, prophecies don't exist."

Whether they were just being childish, or fueling some deep-seated masochistic need for antagonism, those two seemed to _thrive_ on their conflicts. Cam mentally counted to five as he sensed the squabble escalating. Surely enough, Vala stared at Jackson beneath her eyebrows, incredulity etched on her face.

"Please, tell me you did not just say you don't believe in prophecies, Daniel."

"I don't believe in overly dramatic predictions, often made cryptic with the obvious intent to loosely fit pretty much every situation, so that those who make them can trick those naïve enough to believe in them." He crossed his arms, giving her a demonstrative nod. "_Self-fulfilling_ prophecies, now _that_ I can definitely go with."

Mirroring his gesture, Vala crossed her arms and leaned against the stone cave wall. She composed a patient expression, having the air of someone who is about to make an incontrovertible point to a soon-to-be-humiliated audience of skeptics.

"Daniel," she started slowly, "how many times have you traveled to the past, future or to alternate dimensions?"

"I don't see how that's releva—"

"I think I read a mission report somewhere…what if, when you went back to the…sixties, was it? What if you'd decided to spice things up a little? And, say, whipped up a charming little poem that _predicted_ how a giant spaceship would land on a pyramid in a few decades?"

"That's not a real prophecy."

"Well, that depends on how you define real, now. Is it not a prediction of the future? Will it not come true?"

"It might not!"

"The future is never set in stone, of course, Daniel, but I think even you'll agree that your foretelling would, in good probability, be fulfilled. And there you go: a perfectly legitimate prophecy! So," she gave him a victorious grin, "care to reconsider your standpoint on the issue?"

He looked away from her beaming face only to catch Sam's lopsided nod of approval.

"She does have a point."

Daniel rolled his eyes.

"_Anywho_…I don't see how that's relevant for our current situation. Unless I came back to about two thousand years ago and decided to write our way out of here in a cryptic little poem—" He noticed Vala's eyes spark up. "Which I _didn't_—won't—oh, for God's sake! You can't possibly believe that—it's ridiculous—Mitchell! A little _help_ here?" His indignation grew as the usually skeptic colonel shrugged. "Sam! Teal'c??!"

He gave his friends a wide-eyed plea for support, but the Jaffa returned his usual stony expression and a slight nod.

"Nothing is beyond possibility, Daniel Jackson."

Cam and Sam exchanged a smirk as Daniel groaned in frustration.

"Okay, even supposing that any of these so-called prophecies were anything but hoaxes—which, for the record, I think they're not," he hurried to add, "they are, _in good probability_, utterly useless to us!"

Vala scowled at his mocking repetition of her earlier expression.

"For now, maybe," she countered, "but we could at least read them over, just in case! It never hurts to know the future, you know," she continued on a lower, casual tone, "I could have used that a couple of times in the past, it would at least have saved me a lot of bad dates—"

Mitchell cut in before Daniel could retort.

"Now, Vala, you know Jackson would usually be the first to pore over any alien writings in a cave. But right now we don't know where we are, or who else is out there and no local Nostradamus will help us. So," Cam moved his focus to the entire team to present the decision, "we're moving on, and keep your guard up." He cast a meaningful look towards Daniel and Vala. "Our little polemic earlier pretty much let anyone who might be out there know we're coming."

As Sam brought up her flashlight once more, checking the walls for any indication that they were approaching an exit, Vala readjusted her backpack with a superficial murmur of protest. She did not actually believe that the so-called prophecies meant anything. But how could she have passed the chance of defeating Daniel in a logic match? And by the narrow-eyed look he gave her, the archaeologist knew exactly what was going on in her head.

"You sure you don't want to stay behind and get a few pointers for the future?" he commented as he checked his pocket for spare batteries.

Before she could answer, Mitchell's exasperated voice carried over to them.

"Okay kids, we're done with the stay-or-go debate!"

"Indeed, Colonel Mitchell." Teal'c's tone had taken on an ominous note of gravity. "We are."

The light of four flashlights dashed in his direction revealed a solid rock wall less than thirty feet down what they had thought was a corridor.

* * *

**A/N: And a small cliffie to boot. Next chapter should be up in a couple of days :) thank you for taking the time to read this story! I always love to hear from you. **

**Myosotis**


	10. Chapter 10

**Dead Ends **

_Be really careful, and you can see any dead end twitch. _

"We must've missed something on the way."

If anyone thought Sam's opinion was wrong, they kept quiet. Not only was optimism generally better in situations like theirs, but they had seen their fair share of dire fixes, and all dead ends twitched sooner or later.

"Right, then we go back and check for it." Cam pointed the flashlight back towards the corridor they had come from. "At least we know there's no one in here with us."

"Unless we missed that, too," Daniel reluctantly pointed out.

"And we know where all the bones came from," Vala added in a falsely casual voice. "Others must have tried to find the way out—"

"Ah!" Mitchell raised a hand to stop her. "Let's not jump to conclusions. If this is a test of sorts, it was designed to have a solution. We just have to find it."

Silence fell for a few seconds, and Vala was the first to break it.

"I know you're all thinking it, and someone has to say it, so here. What if it _isn't_ a test at all, but a trap, and there _is_ no way out?"

"Then we'll _make_ one," Cameron firmly resolved. "But let's check for the exit sign before we start digging."

**

* * *

**

"Hey, Sam…"

She stopped a few steps ahead of him in the tunnel. Even further ahead, Teal'c had gone to investigate the first room. The distant light from his lantern cast long, deformed shadows that danced along the grimy corridor walls.

"Any ideas on what we might've missed?" Cam asked as he caught up with her, his flashlight covering every bit of the floor between them in the process. "Secret passage? Ring platform?"

"Big traffic sign?" she shrugged with a hint of a smile.

Behind them, Daniel and Vala were also looking for the missing clue. When the chinked tablets and half-collapsed niches revealed nothing, they continued with the remaining bit of the passage, the one that ended so abruptly a few feet away from the room.

"Actually, you had a point: if people lived here, there has to be a way out."

"Unless there was a cave-in."

He gave her a wry look.

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine."

Vala scratched a smudge of dust away from the tip of her nose.

"Ugh…don't put that image in my mind, I'm dying for sunshine already." She moved the light around on the ceiling, not wanting to think how many tons of rock were above them. "And did I mention I don't like confined spaces?"

"Yes, you did, actually." He knew she would remember their first trip to an underground cave system, and the tests they had survived then. "And _there's_ something to keep in mind: we got out of that tight spot, we'll find a way out of this one."

"I like your optimism, Daniel." She smirked. "Among other remarkable traits, of course."

Minutes later, they gave up on the stump of tunnel. Returning to the third room, they radioed Mitchell only to find out the rest of the team had come up similarly empty-handed. The place was just what it seemed: a deserted cave that had once been inhabited by the cavern-dwelling predecessors of one of the societies on the surface of the planet.

"That still doesn't explain how we got here," Vala frowned as she did another sweepof the room with her flashlight. "Think about it, Daniel. This planet is at the outskirts of the civilized galaxy, its society is mostly agricultural and has been so for the past few millennia! And I'm willing to bet you there were _hundreds_ of people to pass through those woods and _none_ of them got here." She fixed him with a pointed look. "Someone's trying to tell us something."

As he neither argued nor agreed, Vala dropped the issue, focusing instead on the rudimentary cave drawings. The crookedly etched symbols said nothing to her, although she could sometimes recognize a stylized drawing of the sun as a circle with radial lines coming out of it, or the five-sticks-and-a-head representation of a man. Daniel was right, she knew, there was nothing useful carved on those walls. Then her gaze fell on one of the chipped tablets.

"Daniel…? Would you come here for a second?"

He recognized her falsely calm tone. It usually heralded nothing good. As he walked up to her, Vala offered a deadpan expression, and silently nodded to the stone tablet.

"I'm no linguist," she said as he frowned at the symbols, "but those certainly look different from the rest of the markings here."

After studying the tablet for almost a minute, Daniel raised his glance to her. He looked perplexed.

"It's Ancient."

As the echo of his words died down, another voice rang out in the small room.

"So it is. But focus on the tablet later, Daniel Jackson. Right now the time is short, and you need to hear what I have to say."

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all for reading! Feedback is loved, as always: I love to hear your thoughts. Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	11. Chapter 11

**A Cloak-and-Dagger Meeting**

_O, divine art of subtlety and secrecy! Through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible, and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands. (Lao Tzu)_

"Whoa…who's our guest, Jackson?"

When the archaeologist had summoned them back to the third room, Cam had expected to find either a way out to explore, or a new squabble to appease. He had _not_ expected to find one more person than he had left behind, let alone a white-clad, slightly ethereal-looking woman with a placid expression that made him feel uneasy. She looked like she belonged in that muddy cave about as much as a daisy in a pigsty. A particularly smug daisy, if he was going to be honest about it.

"This…is Ghannis Lal," Daniel provided, "also known as Morgan Le Fay in Earth culture. She's an—"

"Ancient." Mitchell let his head fall back with a roll of his eyes. "Why," he intoned, "does that not surprise me?"

Frowning, a puzzled Sam shook her head.

"What are you doing here?"

"Good question," Daniel harbored the slightly expectative air he had around the rule-bound Ancients. "I thought you were being punished for telling us too much."

Vala huffed in amusement.

"Well, obviously the punishment's ended and she's up to her old tricks again. Not," she clarified, raising both palms, "that we're complaining, mind you."

Morgan let out something akin to a sigh, and nodded.

"Since our last encounter—or really, _because_ of our last encounter—my status among the others has been significantly lowered," she admitted. "I am no longer allowed a vote in the council, nor participation of any sort. I have been confined to this plane and this planet until a final decision will be made."

"What a convenient coincidence," Mitchell remarked dryly, "for you to be on the exact planet we happened to be visiting."

She simply stared at them in meaningful silence, until Daniel got the drift.

"Except…you're not." He chuckled mirthlessly, not at all surprised at the revelation. "Which means that _we're_ not on P3X-228 anymore either. But I thought you weren't allowed to do anything, let alone bring us here…"

"I did not bring you here, Daniel Jackson."

Sam almost rolled her eyes. She did not appreciate being abducted by alien beings, no matter what plane of existence those beings belonged to. And she thoroughly disliked the secretive, need-to-know-only attitude that the ascended Ancients kept entertaining.

"If you didn't bring us here," she asked, "then how—"

But Morgan raised a hand to silence her before she could finish the question.

"The time is short," she repeated. "More pressing matters preoccupy the council, and as long as my energy does not interfere with this plane, they will not turn their attention to us. But the risk is there, and we must talk before anyone can stop us."

They exchanged wary glances, but Mitchell nodded.

"Alright…we're all ears."

"The Sangraal didn't work," Vala piped in before the Ancient could speak again. When Daniel fixed her with an impatient look, she offered an innocent shrug. "Just thought she might want to know."

Closing her eyes for a brief second, Morgan nodded in understanding. The bad news was no surprise to her, it appeared, and by her grim expression, worse news was on the way.

"The Sangraal was designed to dissipate the energy of ascended beings," she began to explain. "It should have worked. But I underestimated the power that the Ori draw from the faith of their followers. It is an endlessly source of energy for them, and it cannot be extinguished."

"So," Daniel quickly sensed the more subtle implications, "the weapon couldn't destroy the Ori because they constantly feed on the energy of their followers, but..."

"It could well destroy the Ancients," Teal'c finished, having correctly guessed, as well.

"And we sent it right into their welcoming hands." Mitchell visibly deflated at the grim discovery. "Son of a…" He kept quiet for a brief moment, then resumed. "So who's going to stop them from charging into our galaxy and blowing you all to bits?"

The bleak expression on Morgan's face suggested she was considering the same question.

"Since my exile, I have had very little information on the Ori. I do know that the Sangraal extinguished the Fire of Celestis, and it takes time for it to rekindle in its previous form. Currently, the Ori are finding it difficult to communicate their desires to their followers."

"That's why the Priors in our galaxy haven't made their presence known yet," Sam realized. "There's no one to lead them!"

Vala looked away at the last words, keeping her face carefully neutral. When she sensed Daniel's eyes on her, she swallowed hard and thrust her chin forward, in a gesture that plainly read: no regrets. Then straightened her shoulders and addressed Morgan again.

"So if the Ori are regaining their previous form and planning to use the Sangraal against you, why don't your people _do_ something?"

The Ancient's face saddened.

"At this time when we must be united, we are more divided than ever," she answered in a regretful tone. "The non-interference policy has caused a rift within the council, and it proves hard to mend. Few of us favor a preemptive act, but the majority wishes to remain neutral." She shook her head. "We cannot agree on a course of action."

"Yeah, and while you talk it ten times over, the Ori are regaining power!"

She did not seem taken aback by Daniel's vehement protest.

"That is why I have come to speak to you, Daniel Jackson. The Ori misuse their power, lie to their followers and violate free will. They must not be allowed to rule over this galaxy, or any other."

"And you want _us_ to stop them." Mitchell almost laughed with disbelief. "Just how are we supposed to do that? We've no weapons to match theirs, we can barely hold our own against _one single prior,_ and to be honest, we're pretty much getting our asses handed to us time and again in this battle!"

"More advanced weapons would only help on short term," she told them. "The only way to defeat the Ori definitively is to destroy the faith of their followers."

"So we have to expose them for the fake gods that they are."

Vala gave him an askance look.

"Uh, Daniel, that didn't work so well before." She arched both eyebrows with faint irony. "Remember what we were doing before we ended up in this cave?"

"It will not be easy," Morgan admitted, "but it must be done. And it must be done quickly, before the Ori rekindle the Fire of Celestis and communicate to their Doci again. I do not know how long that will take, or how they plan to lead their armies without the Orici."

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, she seemed to drop her air of superior calm, and allowed some anxiety to seep through her words:

* * *

… _through you we learn to be invisible, through you inaudible, and hence we can hold the enemy's fate in our hands..._

* * *

"I can feel the insidious touch of the Ori everywhere, on every planet they have turned, in every mind they have touched…" She fixed them with an intense stare, moving her apprehensive glance from one to the other. "Your only chance of defeating them, _our_ only chance, is to disrupt their influence over people."

They guarded an almost reverential silence, acknowledging her visible concern with worried glances of their own. Then Mitchell nodded with false levity.

"Cut off their energy source. Sounds good enough for me."

Sam would not let it go so easily.

"How exactly is that going to happen?" she demanded of the Ancient.

Morgan set her eyes on the inscribed stone piece that Vala had discovered earlier. She nodded to the symbols that decorated it.

"The tablet will lead you to the library where the Ori first started their investigations regarding Ascension. The knowledge they used to ascend is stored there, on a long-forgotten planet that no one has guarded in centuries. My hope is that you will find something in those writings, something that will tell you how they draw energy from their followers, so that you understand how to disrupt the process."

"Your 'hope'?" Cam was unimpressed. "You mean you don't know for sure? Why don't you just tell us where that planet is? Why not go investigate yourself?"

The ascended Ancient shook her head once more, and Mitchell though he could feel the draft as the old patronizing air rushed back to her.

"As I have said, I am not allowed to leave this place until the council has reached a decision on my case. Just getting this tablet has been dangerous enough, and so has our discussion." She searched their surroundings almost nervously, as though expecting someone to break in any second. "I will try to help you more if I can, but you must be prepared to do this alone. Now you must go."

Daniel was not prepared to give up just yet.

"Wait a second, you haven't told us—"

"There is no more time, Daniel Jackson," she interrupted, then urged again. "You must go now, before the council discovers your presence on this planet."

"Okay…then get us out of here!" Vala demanded, only to receive a deadpan expression as the Ancient informed them:

"I cannot."

Mitchell was starting to lose his patience.

"Lady, maybe you forgot, but we can't pass through walls!"

His stinging comment seemed to amuse her, and she gave them all a small smile.

"Use the tablet," she advised, then nodded to each of them. "I hope we will see each other again before the end."

"Hey wait—great." Cam rolled his eyes as she faded out of sight before he could ask anything else. "Use the tablet," he repeated almost sarcastically. "Well Jackson, better get translating our way out."

"I don't think that's going to be necessary," Sam remarked, and turned the tablet over under their intrigued stares. A small device was attached to the back of the stone slab. "Looks like a beacon," she informed them before fiddling with its buttons. "And now it's activated."

Almost immediately, the same blue light enveloped them, and seconds later the bridge of a familiar ship materialized beneath their feet. As he set his eyes on the occupants of the ship, Cam gave an exasperated sigh, and repeated the rhetorical question that seemed to have become his favorite.

"Why. Am I not. Surprised..."

* * *

**A/N: Comments, questions, suggestions? Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this one! Thank you for reading! **

**Myosotis**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you all for staying with this story!! Your comments always make me smile:). **

**And all my gratitude, as always, to Dawn, for beta-reading my (consistently messy) drafts! **

**Detour**

"_The truth is rarely pure and never simple." (Oscar Wilde)_

"_Greetings_?" Cam repeated incredulously. "Why don't you try '_apologies'_ for a change? You know, apologies for having kidnapped and transported us to God-only-knows what planet…" He shook his head and sighed in resignation. "Weren't you supposed to be the good guys?"

"What he's trying to say," Sam cut in with a warning look towards her fellow colonel, "is…why didn't you _tell_ us what was going on? We wouldn't have said 'no' to the opportunity to talk to an ascended Ancient…!"

"My apologies for the discourteous treatment, Colonel Carter," Thor offered in his usual composed tone. "Discretion was essential for your encounter with Ghannis Lal. She requested that we be as inconspicuous as possible, so the Council would not be alerted to this meeting."

"I can't believe this…" Sam frowned in bemusement. "You've been in contact with the Ancients all along? But…_how_?"

The grey alien tilted his head, as though surprised that she would ask such a question.

"The Alliance has always had its means of communication," he calmly replied, "even though they have not been used in a long time. When Ghannis Lal requested our assistance, however, I volunteered this _O'Neill_ to make your encounter possible."

Vala bit back a smirk as she heard the ship's name. Her teammates, however, had already grown accustomed to it; they ignored the humor in favor of some answers. Thor had just informed them that they were currently leaving the orbit of a small, deserted planet outside the stargate system, where Ghannis—or Morgan, as Vala preferred to think of her—had been consigned pending the Council's decision on her irregular behavior. Apparently, getting the Asgard to transport SG1 there had made it easy to avoid detection. Vala could still not wrap her mind around what she saw as unnecessary complications.

"Let me see if I got this straight," she finally cut in, "Morgan contacted _you_, so that you could kidnap _us_, bring us to a dusty corner of the galaxy, just so that _she_ can tell us the Ori are still out there and give us a chipped stone tablet?" She blinked rapidly, as though dazed by the pure absurdity of it all. "You couldn't simply have told us straight out??"

"You know she does have a point," Mitchell supported.

"This contact has not been that first that our race has had with the ascended Alterans recently," Thor revealed, "but as you are aware, most of them do not wish to actively engage the Ori."

"It is fortunate that _some_ of them do," Teal'c commented sternly, and a grim-faced Daniel nodded his agreement.

"We're lucky there are those who think like Morgan. I've seen the power of the Ori…no one else in this galaxy has the weapons to fight them!"

Thor nodded.

"As things are, Daniel Jackson, we must take what measures we can against an enemy that does not play by the rules. If by subterfuge we acquire the much-needed help, then subterfuge we will use."

Cam and Sam exchanged a knowing glance.

"In other words, they're helping the Ancients cheat a little," Mitchell concluded in a low tone. "It's about time."

_That_ was something Vala could wholeheartedly agree on. So was Mitchell's next comment about the Tau'ri always being pushed into the boxing ring by higher powers, and left to battle enemies absurdly more powerful. First the Goa'uld, then the Replicators, now the Ori. Where would the line be drawn?

"Oh…kay…at least now we know how we ended up in that hole in the first place," Daniel pointed out. "Now about those defensive measures you were talking about…?"

Vala was no expert in Asgard physiognomy, but she could tell the little guy—Thor, they called him—did not have good news. Tuning out his reply, she chose instead to study the Asgard ship and its odd-looking crew. She would not have credited the small, naked aliens with the incredible knowledge and technology they actually possessed, but Vala had learned by now just how far from appearances the truth could lie. That Thor looked innocuous and constantly befuddled, with his wide eyes staring up at the considerably taller humans, yet he spoke of strategies and weapon upgrades that few races could claim to possess.

Unfortunately, even those formidable weapons were useless against the Ori, at least as long as the fires of Celestis drew constant energy from the countless followers of Origin.

Just before the Asgard ship dematerialized under their feet, Vala heard Thor promise the assistance of his people in the upcoming battle. But even that help would be quite ineffective unless they followed Morgan's instructions. SG1 barely managed a quick goodbye before they found themselves back in the gate room of the SGC.

Mitchell took a second to realize why they were being greeted by overly cautious soldiers. Then Landry marched in the gate room, wearing his best no-nonsense expression, his tone slightly less friendly than that of a pissed-off rotweiller.

"SG1," he demanded with a sharp quirk of his eyebrow, "what is the meaning of this?"

Cam looked at the inactive gate behind them, and offered a shrug.

"We hitched a different ride, Sir. Had a little detour, too." His eyes fell on the stone tablet that Thor had beamed down along with them. "Brought you a little souvenir."

* * *

Debriefing the General actually went better than they had expected. Hearing about the Asgard's latest intervention did not surprise Landry much, nor did the news that the fates of the battle seemed to be resting with them, _again_. Obviously, the older man had become used to the low-key, noncommittal presence of their allies. 

"Thor offered his ships in case the Priors launch an attack here on Earth," Sam concluded her recount of their discussion with the Asgard, "but their first priority now is to ensure the safety of the planets under their protectorate."

"Their fleet is still not fully recovered," Daniel sighed, "we'll just have to take whatever we can get."

"And hope it doesn't come to an attack on Earth…" Mitchell found it hard to understand everyone's silent gratitude and deference towards the little grey aliens, but then he admitted he had not been around whenever Thor had kicked serious Goa'uld ass. "Pity, we could've used a few _O'Neill_s in case the Ori ships come a-calling."

Sam pressed her lips together to stifle a small laugh.

"We're not going to wait for them to come," Landry resolved. "Dr. Jackson, can you decipher the tablet?"

"Yes," Daniel nodded, "but I have a feeling that deciphering it will be the easy part. Deducing the location of the Ori library from the text, on the other hand…well, you've seen some of the Ancients' maps." He shook his head. "They were…_cryptic_ cartographers, to put it diplomatically."

"Obsessed with paranoid riddles, to put it straight," Vala completed. "What?" she shrugged at the archaeologist's glare. "I've seen some of the Ancients' maps, as well. In fact, it was one of their insane codes that brought me to your lovely planet in the first place, remember?"

"Ohh, how could I forget," Daniel countered sarcastically.

"Alright," Landry hurried to intervene before the two could start a verbal match, "then let me know as soon as you have a text we can work with. Colonel," he addressed Mitchell, "you will debrief the other SG team-leaders on the latest information. I want all the teams coordinated in the event of an attack on Earth. Teal'c…"

From the opposite side of the Table, the Jaffa acknowledged his appropriate course of action.

"I will contact the Jaffa to suggest coordinating their preemptive efforts with ours."

"Let's hope they respond well to that." Landry pushed his chair back, indicating the meeting had come to an end. "Let me know as soon as you have news," he reiterated, standing up. "I'm going to inform the President of these new developments."

They all nodded in acknowledgment, lingering behind a few more moments, as was their well-established habit. Unfortunately, there was too much to do to allow for the usual post-mission small-talk around the briefing table.

"I'll get back to working on the shield technology," Sam said, "so…I'll be in my lab if you need me."

They shared a silent laugh at the phrase that had become something like her personal motto lately. Then Mitchell started gathering some of the sheets strewn on the table.

"Alright, people…" He put the pages in his file, checking that he hadn't missed any. "I've got a meeting to call up."

Daniel also stood up.

"I'll let you know when I get anything from the tablet."

Vaguely self-conscious, Vala felt four pair of eyes turning expectative glances to her. She gave them a wide smile.

"I'll be helping Daniel."

The archaeologist groaned.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Now, for those of you asking yourselves, "just how exactly is this a Daniel/Vala story?", don't worry. Slowly but surely, we're getting there! And I hope you enjoy the ride! **

**Myosotis**


	13. Chapter 13

** Connected**

"…_it__ is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top." (Virginia Woolf)_

"_I can feel the insidious touch of the Ori everywhere, on every planet they have turned, in every mind they have touched…"_

Vala rolled on her back and fixed the ceiling with a frustrated stare. Morgan's troubled words had followed her from the underground cave on that backwater planet, all the way to her quiet, cosy sleeping quarters at the SGC.

The touch of the Ori…what an odd way to put it. Higher energy forms could not actually _touch_ anything. Yet how fitting the phrase was. Vala, too, could recognize their touch all over the villages in the Ori galaxy, and lately in her own. She had seen their touch in Tomin's gentle features, hardened by the determination to eradicate all those who dared doubt.

"…_everywhere, on every planet they have turned, in every mind they have touched…"_

The phrase rattled her memory somewhat, like random words of a song whose lyrics she had once known. Vala tried to recall a context, but it frustratingly eluded her. She wondered what Daniel had made of the Ancient's ominous claim. Aside from her, he was the only one who had truly seen the culture of the Ori.

Everyone else fought defensively, fought for the principles that the crusader army was trying to crush. They fought against the enemy's actions and its blind indoctrination policy...but Vala alone felt she fought the Ori themselves. Because she, alone, had seen beyond the curtain of rigid rituals and fanatic followers. She had seen them, the Ori in the fires of Celestis, had felt them assault her mind and her body, ignore her will and her fight. But as they used her for their own twisted purposes, they had inadvertently exposed themselves, and Vala would never let herself forget that. Beyond the appearance of omnipotence and godhood, their essence was the same single-minded hunger for power she had met countless times before.

She wished all the Origin fanatics could, for the smallest second, have a glimpse of that petty yearning that drove their so-called gods. Oh, how she wished Tomin could have seen it that day he had angrily shouted at her to accept the religion and submit to the will of the Ori. But no, no one could ever look into their greedy little core, unless the Ori themselves gripped that person's mind in their turn. That was how she had glimpsed it, that was how Daniel must have done it, for what else could have made him into the first and only agnostic Prior?

She smiled in the darkness at the thought. If the Ori had truly thought they could turn Daniel, her Daniel, her constantly-searching, hair-splitting, back-talking Daniel…they had been in for a rather bitter disappointment.

"…_every mind they have touched…"_

But the scars were there, in his mind as well as hers, the memories and dreams they could never quite erase, and a basic inquietude in Vala made her wonder just how far the perfidious grasp of the Ori could reach.

* * *

"Will you ever leave this room again, darling?"

Daniel did not bother to raise his glance from the pile of scribbled papers in front of him. While Vala's entrance had effectively shattered his focus, he knew better than to fuel her enthusiasm with any amount of actual attention. So he composed an obviously distracted tone and took a few seconds to answer:

"Not until I've deciphered exactly what this tablet says…"

Leaning an elbow on the back of his chair, she peered over his shoulder.

"Think the cryptic message will wait for a quick snack?"

"No thank you."

"A quick coffee?"

"Got my fill right here," he muttered with a vague nod towards the half-empty cup.

"A quick shower?"

"Vala—"

"I suppose a quick round of adult fun is out of the question…"

He sighed in annoyance and whipped his head around to give her a menacing glare. But before he could voice his irritation with her, Vala rushed out her next question.

"Whatdidyouseeinthefiresofcelestis?"

Her words came out so quickly that his mind was only able to process them after he had already replied a disconcerted 'huh…?'.

"Do you remember," Vala rephrased, obviously making an effort to speak slower, "what you saw in the fire of Celestis? You know…" she fixed her gaze on the chipped corner of his desk, "when you…eh…or Merlin…well, when you became a Prior for the Ori.'

Daniel took a deep breath and focused on doodling some random lines on the paper in front of him, before raising his eyes to her again. He wore a slight frown as he dealt with the difficult question. Her silent, keen gaze told him he would not get away with a dismissive answer, and he briefly wondered just how their previously airy conversation had taken such a serious turn. Hadn't she been making infuriating passes at him just seconds before? And now she was all quiet and quizzical and he could not find it in himself to turn her away.

"Uh…" he sighed in preparation of an honest answer. "I…don't remember that much, actually. It was around that time that Merlin took over to protect me from the Ori. I just…I remember them reaching out to me, offering that immense power…" He also recalled virtually begging the Ancient in his head to take it, to use it for all the good they could do. But he had not signed up for _that_ much honesty with Vala. "It was very strange, actually sensing the Ori for the first time…not through the faith of their followers, but directly, in their essence…I suppose you could say for some, it would have been an epiphany."

"But not for you…?" she murmured, idly playing with the wrinkled corner of a stray sheet.

"Not really," he lied. "Having Merlin in my head kind of put things into perspective. Rationally, I knew that the way of the Ori was wrong, that what they were offering was a fake…" But that hadn't prevented him from almost accepting it anyway, he silently admitted. Another thing that Vala would never hear. "When I looked into the fire, I had a clearer, deeper view of the Ori than any we've ever gotten while fighting them. But it's…it's hard to explain, Vala."

And it was, hard and frustrating that he could not really tell everything that had happened inside him back then.

"Don't worry, darling…" Vala replied with a smile, "I know what you mean. I've seen it too, remember?" At his confused frown, she shook her head with a silent chuckle. "Really, Daniel, I spent_months_ in their galaxy, married one of their faithful followers, bore their prophesized Orici! Do you imagine I kept my head buried in that sand through all that?"

Daniel chose not to reply. Yet later, when Vala had left his office, he realized that their discussion had actually given him some inexplicable reassurance.

It worried him, the sudden, uninvited and unwelcome kinship he felt towards her. In the whole galaxy, Vala was the only one who had seen the Ori as closely as, or conceivably even closer than he had. And now, on the eve of their great assault on the Ori, Daniel felt part of a secret front that he and Vala alone formed against the Ori threat.

He was pretty sure he should not feel that connected to her. It spelled disaster in every language known to man.

* * *

**A/N: And so concludes an exclusively D/V chapter that has been long in the making! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please drop a line to let me know your thoughts! **

** Until next time!**

**Myosotis **


	14. Chapter 14

**Compass in the Night**

"_I took my share in this fight for the impossible..." (Albert Camus)_

" Well, there's good news," Daniel informed them, "and there's really, _really_ bad news."

"Isn't there always, darling? The good first," Vala picked, though no one had asked her to.

Brushing off some stray papers, she perched herself on the edge of his desk. Daniel's office seemed small and cramped, with the five of them gathered around the messy table in the center, where the Ancient's tablet lay covered in scribbled pages. As he had promised, the archaeologist had translated the text in record time. Yet, he looked far from satisfied. Vala's mind was just drifting back to his earlier description of the Ancients as "cryptic cartographers", when Daniel clasped his hands together and began:

"The tablet talks about the 'initio foccum', the beginning of fire."

"That could refer to the knowledge that the Ori acquired prior to their ascension," Teal'c opined.

"It probably does," Daniel nodded, then scanned the tablet once more before continuing: "Actually, the information is pretty straightforward. The knowledge is said to be guarded in a library of sorts, just like Morgan said. The tablet gives a good description of the planet this library is on…a bit too poetic to be entirely precise, but I think it says that the planet is part of a five-planet solar system. 'Sola vita gardit', it alone preserves life, so it's probably the only inhabitable one in the system. 'Due luni revolutio' refers to the two moons that orbit it."

"That _is_ a pretty accurate description," Sam agreed, "but there must be countless planets in the galaxy to fit that description."

"From what Morgan said, we know it doesn't have a stargate," Mitchell provided. "That might narrow it down a little. Still, the database search could bring up a couple dozen planets, or even—"

"None."

Daniel gave them a serious look, then shrugged and mirrored the puzzlement in their expressions. "I've looked through all the charts we have in our system, none of them returned any matches."

"Impossible!" Sam was baffled. "There are _thousands_ of systems out there!"

"I've run every program, checked every chart of the galaxy that I could find in our computers. So, either we don't have the data on that particular solar system—"

"—or the planet doesn't exist," Mitchell finished.

"In this galaxy." While four grim looks turned to him, Teal'c regarded the tablet with keen interest. "Is it not more likely, Daniel Jackson, that the knowledge is deposited in the Ori galaxy, rather than our own?"

Daniel expelled a sigh, letting his chin drop to his chest.

"And _there_ is the really, really bad news."

* * *

One hour later, when Sam had double-checked all the charts in their computers just to make sure, the half-hearted debate came to an end. It was obvious and definitive: the Ori library _would_ be in the Ori home galaxy, and there was no point pretending or hoping otherwise.

"And there's no point in looking for it, either."

A tired and frustrated Daniel sank into his chair, glaring at the tablet as though it intentionally tantalized them.

"We have the description of the planet," Sam reminded him. "That's a start."

"And no way of _finding_ it," Vala pointed out, "and even if we had that, there's still no way of actually _getting_ to it, not to mention getting back—"

"Alright, let's have a bit of optimism, shall we?" Cam placed both palms on top of Daniel's desk, looking towards the archaeologist and Vala. "You two made it to the Ori galaxy before, didn't you? Vala, you explained that stone…connection thing when you contacted us from there last year, can you try that again?"

"_No_," came their simultaneous, emphatic answer. They exchanged a quick glance, then resolutely looked the other way, each shielding thoughts and fears and scars that ran silent at the back of their minds.

"Our last trip there didn't go so well," Vala resumed quickly, "I trust you remember, Cameron? You nearly lost the beauty _and_ brains of your team…? And…Daniel," she added as an afterthought.

"Anyway, isn't the Ancient communication device gone?" Sam pointed out.

"Yeah…Teal'c and I had to fling it into the naquadah vortex." Mitchell grimaced at the memory. "Okay you're right, that was a bad idea. No more mind traveling business. If you want something done right, you have to get your ass down there… physically," he added after a short, confused silence.

"Deep," Sam grinned.

"Hey, my Grandma knew what she was saying…" he replied with a small grin of his own. Then he looked at the tablet again. "I want solutions, people. We need a map of the Ori galaxy first, so we don't jump in head first for something we don't even know for sure is there."

"Somehow, I don't think anyone's been up to charting the galaxy," Daniel remarked, "since the Ori have kept their followers' civilization somewhere around the Dark Ages. Science is still alchemy, space the dwelling of gods and so on."

"Makes sense, doesn't it? They wouldn't want people asking too many questions," Cam mused. "Keep the followers anchored in their religious ignorance, and their faith keeps providing energy for the Ori to feed on."

"Hm." Vala bit her lips with an expression of fascinated concentration. "I just had a revelation," she declared airily.

Four mildly curious glances fixed her.

"To bring Origin here," she started slowly, "the Ori had to make a compromise and risk offering advanced equipment to their people. The followers aren't exactly technologically impaired anymore, are they? Not with the big crusader ships roaming our galaxy."

"Some revelation," Mitchell sighed. "Yes, Vala, they have big ships with big weapons and even bigger plans. That doesn't exactly _help_ us."

"Actually, Cameron…" Vala was obviously enjoying drawing out her revelation, "how do you think those ships navigate?"

It dawned on the four of them simultaneously, and it was Sam who voiced it for everyone.

"Maps… The ship computers must have maps of the Ori galaxy!"

And excitement mixed inside them with awe, as they had surpassed one seemingly insurmountable obstacle only to move on to the next.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for sticking with this story:) despite the abysmal update times, be assured that it's going forward, and hopefully you're enjoying the ride! And as always, know that your feedback is much appreciated and makes my day brighter! **

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Many thanks to all the wonderful people who read this story, and to everyone who sent me their comments! **

**And, as always, thank you Dawn for beta-reading!! This story would not be the same without your input! **

**A Plan Is Made**

_"To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream...not only plan, but also believe." (Anatole France)_

A few days, a lot of headaches, and many bureaucratic issues later, their plan was able to rise on its wobbly feet and, for the first time since its inception, managed not to crash under the weight of yet another of its many holes.

"Very well, SG1. It's settled, then." Landry let the file in his hands drop to the table with a definitive _thud _and the bottom half of an official-looking document slid out. "The President gave us the go this morning…"

He looked at the five expectative faces around the table and felt half-wary of his own words. When he had taken up the job at the SGC, he had never imagined quite how emotionally costly it would be to keep saving the planet. And all those airy people at conferences who thought him some kind of flat science-fiction hero… they had no idea how dour and anguished their dream-like action series was to those who did not take a happy-ending for granted.

"The Tel'tak is ready, Sir," Sam provided softly, filling his contemplative silence, and Landry snapped back to the reality of the upcoming mission.

"Last reports from Juna say the Priors are still visiting the villages on the planet," Mitchell was saying. "At least one Ori ship should be in the neighborhood for the next few days."

"Which gives us just enough time to get there," Sam concluded after a quick mental calculation. She gave Landry a questioning glance, and the General nodded.

"You are scheduled to leave tomorrow morning. I will meet you in the main hangar at oh eight hundred hours."

He saved his good luck wishes for the following morning.

* * *

_Later that evening..._

"Are you sure you can't make those bracelets user-safe for us, Sam? Would be quite helpful if we could be invisible..."

Sam looked up from her desktop screen to give Vala a smile.

"Sorry," she shook her head, "not unless you want a free day-ticket to Monster Island. Old TV reference," she hurried to add, before the brunette could make any inferences. "Anyway, I can't bypass the radiation risk to us without keeping the parasites alive, as well."

"Too bad…" Vala murmured, idly pacing around Sam's desk. She took a casual glance at the monitor. "You went over those designs about a hundred times or so. I _think_ they're alright now."

Sam chuckled.

"I just want to make sure the generator can keep the cloaking device working while the Asgard beam is activated. We don't want to tip them off right before we transport to their ship."

"Yes, _that_ would not be so good. Then again, us marching into their command center might tip them off anyway…" The blonde laughed again, while Vala felt her mind jump to the next random idea. "You know I tried adapting the Tel'tal cloaking technology to a smaller scale once…back in my good old business days."

She looked up to see Sam watching her in surprise.

"Vala that's brilliant! I can't believe I never thought of that…!"

"Well, _you_ probably never needed to be invisible as badly as I did with the whole Lucian Alliance hot on my heels." She took on a dreamy expression. "Ah, those were good times. Anyway," she reverted to the topic at hand, "I said I _tried_. It didn't work out. There's an inconsistency in the energy algorithm that only disappears at high power values, so the phase equations kept yielding errors."

Sam kept silent for a second.

"Vala, are you actually talking about differential inconsistencies in cloaking technology? Okay, now I'm worried."

"Hey, don't let the appearances fool you," the other half-heartedly countered. "I'm quite smart beneath this stunning exterior!"

"I _know_ that," Sam replied as she turned off her computer, "and I _also_ know you only try to drag me into techno-talk when you're avoiding a topic." She turned in her chair so that she was facing the brunette, and gave her a long look. "So…what's going on?"

Vala was intently examining the jumble of wires in one of the half-finished devices cluttered on the working desk in the corner. Sam waited patiently, knowing her friend would start talking soon, since that was what she was probably there for in the first place. Surely enough, it was only a few seconds before Vala crossed her arms and declared matter-of-factly:

"I have a bad feeling about this."

That, Sam could definitely understand. She was none-too-thrilled about the mission, herself. Yet what was there to do but go ahead with that instinctive optimism they all secretly held onto?

"You're worried about getting onto the Ori ship?" she tried, but Vala only waved a dismissive hand.

"No, we've got _that_ all figured out and you checked the plans fifty times over and that irritating little man didn't even object, so I _know_ it will work out!" She raised her chin up in the air with an air of wounded pride. "It's not my first time breaking onto a ship, you know."

Sam waited for her to continue, and eventually the brunette shook her head in frustration and started pacing.

"No, it's not that," she went on, "it's this whole…going to the Ori galaxy thing. I find insane, delusional goals very irritating."

"This from the woman who single-handedly hi-jacked our flag ship," Sam deadpanned, and was glad to see Vala grin almost involuntarily.

"That was different," the other objected. "And for the record, I didn't do it alone. Daniel helped me!"

"Don't let him hear you say that," Sam advised with a small grin of her own. Then she sighed, letting her expression grow serious once more. "Look, Vala…none of us likes having to go into the lion's den. But if it means stopping the Ori for good, don't you think it's worth it?"

"Yes," Vala nodded. "But I have this feeling that we haven't seen the last of them yet. I've seen them work. They're manipulative and sneaky and this whole tablet thing is too straightforward! It's too easy!"

Sam arched an eyebrow.

"You…_did_ get the same mission plan as the rest of us, right?"

"You know I'll be right eventually," Vala predicted. "There will be a catch to this Ori library plan, and we'll get into a _world_ of trouble and it will be up to _me_ to get us out again! I should get a pay rise, you know!"

"I'd put the request in the mission report when we get back," Sam replied with a wink and a good-natured smile. "Vala…we're all worried about this. But we're doing the right thing, and we're damn good at doing it, okay? We've had lots of practice. To be honest, I'm sure we'll run into a lot of trouble once we get to the Ori galaxy. But, to quote someone who's had a lot of experience with trouble…we'll burn that bridge when we come to it. Alright?"

"Sounds like a very wise someone," Vala remarked.

"He sure likes to think so."

* * *

They all managed to fall asleep eventually. Sam checked the cloaking device one last time, then had to tinker a little with an Asgard beam before she finally found the peace she needed that night. Teal'c kel'no'reemed his way into a dreamless sleep. Landry finally placed the mission plan on his nightstand, convinced that there was no more room for improvement, and placed his glasses on top of the wrinkly pages. Mitchell briefly considered writing some kind of last statement, just in case, but eventually decided to call his folks instead. He fell asleep with the promise of apple pie and the thought of some old high-school sweetheart he would visit one of these days. 

As for Daniel and Vala, they were the last to find an escape in sleep that night. They stared at the ceiling and turned in their sheets, and frowned at visions of fires and alien symbols. But in the end, as the clocks on base were just ticking past dawn, even they managed to fall asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Room freezing, coffee-machine half-melted, freezer desolate and empty: I survive on feedback and Christmas songs these days! So if you will please send any of the two (or both!) my way, my day shall be considerably merrier! **

**On a more serious note, thank you for reading and sticking with the story for all this time. Fifteen chapters...whoohoo. To think this started off with two-page D/V scene...**

**Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Huge thanks to everyone who sent me their thoughts on the last chapter -- I'm really humbled by your warm responses to this story. ****And _thank you,_ Dawn, for beta-reading!** _//hugs//_

**Into the Lion's Den**

_From the depths of its sandy retreat, the cricket,  
In watching them pass, it strengthens its song,  
Cybele, she, who loves them, shines greener to some. _

_From rock water springs, and desert blooms token.  
Before these lone travellers, for whom lies wide open,  
The terrible empire of darkness to come._

_(Charles Baudelaire, "Bohemiens en voyage")_

An unusual silence hovered inside the small Tel'tak cabin as the ship made its way through space, the perfunctory whirring of the engines the only source of noise. Even that seemed subdued, as though the very circuits and crystals knew they were in for a rough ride. As for the five passengers, they exchanged carefully neutral glances, each projecting optimism and shielding doubts and worries.

"_We're going to need someone to manoeuvre the ship to safety if they catch on to us! You're the better pilot, Cam!"_

_"Okay, one, I've never flown one of these things in my life, and two, what we need is someone to make sure the cloaking shield stays in place, and that's you, Sam!"_

Tempers were frayed, solutions not wholly satisfying. They had perfected the plan as much as possible, but even so, there was much that could go wrong. And if SG-1 had learnt something in their ample world-saving experience, it was that when things _could_ go wrong, they inevitably would. Then they would have to improvise a spur-of-the-moment strategy, insane to borderline suicidal, that would get them out of the tight spot and back home in one piece.

_"Vala? You're being unusually quiet."_

_"With the Sangraal, and all that mess…I was kind of hoping I'd never have to be aboard an Ori ship again."_

Everyone had secretly hoped that sending the Ancients' weapon through the supergate would end the battle once and for all. But it had not, and they could speculate all they wanted, things were the way they were: the Ori were still out there, bent but not broken, and the fight was about to be rekindled. And as the quiet Tel'tak made its way to its target, each one of them envisioned the future as it could be, if they succeeded.

A warning beeped on the console, breaking the almost reverent silence.

"We are approaching the specified location," Teal'c spoke gravely, and they all straightened their backs, in unconscious preparation for the mission to come. "I am activating the cloaking shield."

A few lights sprung to life on the controls panel, and Sam quickly certified that the system was working properly. Again, she was tempted to argue with Mitchell on who should stay behind on the Tel'tak, but decided against it. There was no time for debates. Instead, she watched the screen as their ship left hyperspace, coming out in the vicinity of a small planet. She did not need to check the instruments to ascertain the presence of an Ori ship: the vessel hung ominously in a lower plane of orbit, its energy source glinting dangerously in the dark void.

"And there, ladies and gentlemen, is our gracious host for this banquet," Mitchell quipped. "Apparently we're just in time for the main course."

"Let's just get down there and get this over with," Vala suggested, "before they catch us crashing their party."

Sam finished keying in some commands on the console and turned to them.

"We're going to have to take the Tel'tak closer to them, so the Asgard beam takes as little as possible to get you over to the Ori ship. That way, they might not detect the transport…maybe."

"At least they don't seem to have spotted us," Daniel remarked, "the cloaking device must be keeping the Tel'tak off their radar."

"And let's hope it stays that way." Cam checked his weapons, nodding briefly to the rest of his team. "Alright people…let's get this show on the road."

Vala gave him a crooked glance.

"Do you _ever_ use common language, Cameron, or is the whole world just one big popular cultural reference to you?"

He smirked.

"Hey, use'em if you've got'em," he replied in a particularly pronounced drawl, then winked at her. "I'll get you a subscription to my video rental place when we get back."

Teal'c checked the instruments, before addressing Sam.

"We are at minimum distance from the Ori ship. I suggest, Colonel Carter, that you do not remain in such close proximity once you have transported us."

"I know," she nodded, "the electro-magnetic field their ship generates might interfere with the cloaking. I'll keep my distance, but I'll be in communication range if you need me."

"Take care, Sam, okay? Don't let them find you," Vala pleaded, then raised a warning finger, "because we're _all_ screwed if you do."

"I'll…keep that in mind," the blonde replied with a small grin, then her expression grew serious as she looked at the four of them. "Good luck," she wished them, hoping things would, for once, go according to plan.

"You too," Mitchell reciprocated, hoping they would not end up calling for her to blow up another sun to save their collective hides.

Seconds later, Sam activated the Asgard beam, and watched her friends vanish in a rain of golden sparkles. The alarms on the console chose that moment to go off, echoing loudly and urgently within the Tel'tak walls.

"You've got to be kidding me…" Sam groaned, as she rushed to the instruments for some damage control.

* * *

The moment the blinding light of the Asgard beam waned, and he could feel his tingling feet on solid ground again, Mitchell raised his weapon in an alert gesture. Beside him he caught a glimpse of Teal'c doing the same thing, and together they scanned their surroundings for any hostile forces. All they saw were grey metal walls, and various containers scattered around the quiet room. Apparently, Vala's suggestions on the best place to transport had been good, and Cam knew he would not regret his decision to bring her along to the ship. 

"All clear," he whispered, signalling them to move towards the door. "Where does this take us, again?"

"These supply rooms are all on a lateral corridor," Vala whispered back. "I don't recall there ever being patrols around this part of the ship. But the auxiliary branches don't connect to the control room, we need to go out into the main corridor for that."

Without awaiting his instructions, she pressed some buttons on the electric panel on the wall, and the door slid open with a quiet puff. Cam refrained from lecturing her on proper team behaviour; he could imagine how badly she wanted to get off the Ori ship. If not for her invaluable experience, he would never have had her beam over with them in the first place. As things were, he could at least allow for some of her resentment towards their surroundings to spill over.

"We go up this way," she informed them after a short survey of the small hallway they found themselves in. "It will take longer if we go by the ventilation chambers, but there's less of a chance that we'll run into anyone on the way. Although," she added after a short consideration, "with a thousand soldiers on this ship, that's bound to happen sooner or later."

"Better later than sooner," Mitchell replied, and started in the direction she had indicated. "Keep your eyes open."

They walked for little over a minute, before the distant sound of footsteps caused them to stop and line up against the corridor wall, tense and alert for any unwanted company. The footsteps, however, soon faded.

"We must be coming up to the main passageway," Daniel said in a low voice, then he fell silent again, as rhythmic metallic sounds indicated someone else was walking by. "And it's crowded," he added after a few seconds.

"We can take a few of them out, if need be," Mitchell suggested with a glance to their standard-gear Zats.

"That would not be advisable," Teal'c pointed out. "We are still far from the control room, and revealing our presence at this point would surely be detrimental."

"Muscles is right, they'd get dozens of soldiers on our trail and double the security around the Prior."

"We've got the anti-Prior device," the colonel reminded her.

"Sadly, that only works on his powers, not on the soldiers' staff weapons!" she whispered back.

"Shh!" Daniel waved them quiet, as more people walked through the main corridor only a corner away from where they stood.

"Okay, we need to move," Cam said after the footsteps had passed, "before someone decides to take a walk off the beaten path and finds us here. What's at the intersection of this and the main corridor?"

"Living quarters," Vala provided, "I think." She scowled at Mitchell's expectative expression. "I'm not a human floor plan, Cameron! I had better things to do while I was on the Ori ship than memorizing the blueprints, you know."

Well, perhaps 'better' had not been the best word. But her indignant glare held all the meaning that words failed to convey, and Mitchell took the hint. Cautiously, they took advantage of a period of apparent silence to slip into the main corridor. Considerably wider and better lit than the one they had just left, the passageway nevertheless made them feel unsafe.

"Someone's coming," Daniel warned again, and they hurried in the opposite direction.

* * *

"Oh, no, you don't." 

Sam furiously hit the keys on the command panel, trying to keep ahead of the rapid systemic failure that seemed to befall the small cargo ship. Apparently, she had taken the Tel'tak too close to the Ori vessel's power source in her attempt to make the beaming time as short as possible. The electromagnetic interference had sunk some energy levels, and coupled with the strain from maintaining the cloak, it had resulted in a lot of systems going haywire on her.

Well, Sam reckoned with bitter humour, at least it had waited until after the rest of her team had transported to the Ori ship. Not that _that_ would be a lot of help, since they still needed the Tel'tak to get back. But at least it gave her time to fix the problem while Mitchell and company got the maps.

Her most pressing concern was the cloaking device, and she raced to reroute as much energy into that as possible, before it failed. She briefly considered redirecting even the life support power, then thought better of it—she might not be able to get the system back on line, and she was pretty sure they needed oxygen and heat to make the trip back to Earth. Finally, the cloaking system seemed to become stable once more, and Sam let out a relived breath.

It was then that the Ori ship opened fire.

* * *

**A/N: Like? Mmmph...? Hate? Any guesses on what will happen next? As always, I would love to get your feedback on this newest chapter. Thank you for reading! **

**Myosotis**


	17. Chapter 17

**Old Faces, New Dances**

_"Well. I suppose now is the time for me to say something profound... Nothing comes to mind." (Jack O'Neill)_

"This…is not good," Mitchell declared.

They were once more in some secluded part of a secondary corridor, no closer to the command centre than before. With so many people roaming about, they could not even think of walking onto the main artery unseen.

"The longer we spend on this ship, the bigger the chance we'll get discovered. Or that they'll spot Sam. Either way, we're fried."

"Thank you for pointing that out, Cameron," Vala deadpanned. "Alright…I've got an idea. Follow me," she instructed, and started off in a new direction without even waiting to see if they listened.

Minutes later, they had reached a wide, round atrium of sorts, where a few corridors intersected under a dome-shaped metallic ceiling. A tall door stood on one of the side walls, and Vala headed to it, nonchalantly activating the controls to slide it open before anyone could stop her. After a split-second of tension, she allowed her shoulders to relax and stepped inside.

"O-kay…this is certainly not the control centre," Mitchell commented, eyeing the spacious room, "but at least it's empty. That's good."

"Mmmhm. This is the Prostration Room," Vala said calmly.

"The _what_?" He suddenly liked the room a lot less, and his voice instinctively dropped to a hoarse whisper. "You mean they do that on the ships as well?"

"Every day, at pre-established times…,"Daniel provided, "only the soldiers get the light version. About forty minutes, instead of the three-hour routine."

"That's great! It means they'll keep busy for forty-minutes, which is more than we need to get the maps and get back to Sam!" Mitchell then stopped, looking towards Vala in wary confusion. "Except…why exactly are we here, in a room that sometime in the near future will be crawling with Ori fanatics?"

"Well, you see, I was thinking absolutely the same thing about prostration keeping them busy, but we can't know for sure when that is going to happen. _This_," and she pointed towards a table with incomprehensible symbols on the wall opposite to the door, "is a schedule of sorts. So now we know when they'll all be here and when we can go get the maps."

"What if they'd been here _now_," Daniel hissed under his breath.

"It still beat waiting around in that corridor for someone to discover us," she retorted smartly. "Besides, no one's here, and now we know we've got about…twenty minutes…until prostration."

"_Which_ means we should be getting out of here," Daniel urged, and Vala nodded, whispering to Mitchell and Teal'c per way of explanation:

"Some enthusiasts are actually early for the great fun of mindless bowing and chanting."

* * *

Sam was just patting herself on the back for stabilizing the cloaking system when the Ori ship opened fire. 

"Oh, come on people, give me a break!" she protested, checking the readings once more. She let out a frustrated groan. "Great."

Apparently, the shield around the Tel'tak had failed, after all—for no more than a few seconds, she imagined, but it had been enough for the Ori instruments to pick it up. Now it was back on, which explained why the ship was firing blindly into space instead of directly blowing her to pieces, but Sam did not even want to consider what the short failure meant for her team mates.

"They know we're here…" she murmured to herself, mentally reviewing her options. She thought of opening the comm link to Mitchell, then changed her mind; the Ori were probably on the look-out for any kind of transmissions. Sam finally decided to wait it out, on the off chance that the Ori soldiers were not sure of what their instruments had picked up. After all, the Tel'tak had only been detectable for a short moment—perhaps they would chuck it up to an error in the readings and dismiss it.

Provided, of course, that she managed to keep the cargo ship out of the path of their seemingly random energy beams. Sam groaned once more. That was a pilot's job, not hers.

"I _told_ you it should have been you to stay behind," she berated the Mitchell in her head as she sat at the command console, preparing to take evasive action.

* * *

"Nothing," the man behind one of the stations said as heturned to the Prior in the command chair. "No hits, the scanners show nothing is out there. It must have been, eh, an error…with the instruments…?" he finished uncertainly. 

The technology on their ship still baffled him to a great extent, and he was quite grateful all he had to do was aid the Prior with some technical readings. Of course, he would have been more grateful if he had had nothing at all to do with the strange machinery, but apparently someone had to man the stations while the Prior led the daily prostration.

"An error…" the Prior mused, unconvinced. "Perhaps," he nodded, "perhaps. But the Ori dictate caution in dealing with the unbelievers! Call a guard squad and tell them to check the ship," he instructed.

While the man hurried to fulfil the order, the Prior stared into space, lost in thought once more. The anomalous reading _could_ have been an error…but he did not trust that. He allowed a small grin. If indeed there was someone out there, he would soon be given the chance to lead another Ori victory, and make an example of those unbelievers.

* * *

Vala had led them back to the hallway that, according to her, contained mostly living quarters. During prostration, no one remained in their rooms: they were either prostrating or on duty, which made that particular part of the ship safer for them than others. 

"What kind of duties are we talking about here?" Cam asked.

"Maintenance, mostly," said Daniel, "a couple of people to watch the ship instruments, maybe a few training with the commanders, although I'm not sure they do that during prostra—"

"Intruders!"

Daniel's explanation was interrupted by a half-surprised, half-angry shout coming at them from down the corridor. A short distance away, a small troop of soldiers stopped in their tracks, aiming the menacing energy staffs at SG1.

"The Prior was right!" one of them exclaimed.

"Halt, in the name of the Ori!" another called at the same time, just as SG1 gripped their own weapons.

"The Prior was right?" Mitchell repeated incredulously. "What the hell does he mean by _that_?"

Three equally baffled glances met his. The soldiers slowly began to advance towards them, staffs still raised. Vala pursed her lips in obvious annoyance: would things _ever_ go as planned?

"Aren't you supposed to be off prostrating somewhere?" she couldn't help baiting the apparent leader of the group.

"Silence, infidel!"

She rolled her eyes: they really needed to come up with new texts. As her team slowly backed up the corridor, Vala briefly wondered why the Ori followers had not opened fire yet. They probably felt very much in control, what with that being their ship, and them outnumbering SG1 two to one and all.

"Stop, or we will shoot!" she heard the leader shout again, and at the same time she noticed the corridor behind them made a sudden turn. She looked to Mitchell. Surely enough, the colonel shared her thoughts, and almost before Vala could get ready, he had nodded almost imperceptibly to Teal'c. A second later, all hell broke loose, as shots began pouring from both sides, echoing along the metallic walls, and Vala found herself racing down the corridor in a cacophony of shouts and truncated weapon fire.

* * *

"Hell," Mitchell swore, "so much for inconspicuous. Jackson, Vala, get to the command centre!" he yelled, while the heavy footsteps of more Ori soldiers rushed towards them. "Get the maps, go!" 

He and Teal'c took up positions against the walls of the corridor, the ends of their weapons peering cautiously around the corner, ready for the arrival of their enemies. Daniel and Vala held back, exchanging uneasy looks.

"Even with prostration, there'll still be dozens of soldiers storming here in a matter of minutes," Vala pointed out quietly. "Two of us won't stop them."

Daniel nodded, tightening the grip on his weapon. He hated the feeling of cold metal against his hands.

"Here," he discarded his backpack, taking out the anti-Prior device. "Take this."

"Daniel—"

"Without Merlin in my head, I'm not sure I can work the Ori computers. _You_ cracked the Prometheus codes in about a minute."

"But I—"

Weapon fire erupted from behind them, along with angry shouts from the soldiers who had obviously not expected the resistance. Daniel turned towards Mitchell and Teal'c, who were firing blindly around the corner at enemies they could not even see properly.

"Go!" he urged Vala one last time, and as he joined the two in their almost desperate defence, he did not even spare a glance to see if she had heeded his words.

But she had. No sooner had he fired the first shot to help keep the Ori soldiers at bay than Vala turned on her heels and rushed down the corridor, mentally counting the turns that separated her from the command room. She knew she would have to deal with the few soldiers that were probably left at the controls, but there would only be two or three men caught unawares—

"Stop, infidel!"

* * *

Damn the Ori ship for having such twisted, maze-like hallways. She could not have spotted the man before he rounded the corner and confronted her squarely. Clearly, not all the soldiers were either in prostration or on duty. 

"I said _stop_! Drop your weapon!"

She would have been much less inclined to heed the instruction, had the ominous end of an energy staff not reinforced the soldier's shout. Vala was an expert in quick-thinking, but with her team mates under attack behind, and an armed Ori fanatic ahead of her, she was hard-pressed to envision any rapid exit strategies.

Luckily, she did not need to.

"Soldier!"

The man was turning in the direction of the voice when a hard edge hit the side of his head, and he sank to the floor without a sound. And from around the same corner stepped a person Vala had thought she would never see again.

"Tomin!"

On first glance, he looked absolutely the same, yet as he stared down regretfully at the unconscious soldier, she thought he looked…older. Sadder. And when his eyes, still gentle and warm, fixed her, she was dismayed by the gaunt look they held.

"Tomin…"

And despite the urgency she felt, despite the worry, despite the pressure for their plan to succeed, despite the distant regrets, she could not repress an honest, happy smile.

"Vala…" he greeted back with an almost timid shrug.

"You're…you're alive! I thought—when you set me free…"

Another shrug.

"They…didn't look for people to blame. Too many things happening at once, and the Orici was…otherwise engaged. But they know what I did. I'm just…waiting for their hand to come down on me."

Vala simply stared at him in a somewhat shocked relief. So many thoughts ran through her head, that she had a hard time forming coherent sentences.

"That doesn't matter now—you're—I mean…"

He bent own to pick up the gun she had had to drop, and stared at it sadly. For the first time, it occurred to Vala that maybe things had not changed, and she gave Tomin an almost frightened look. But if he was going to try to stop her, he did not show it. Instead, he simply stood by the body of the soldier he had knocked out, shoulders slumped and looking so despondent that her heart almost broke at the sight.

"Tomin, look, we have to go—"

She was not even sure of how finish that sentence, so perhaps it was a good thing that she never got to.

"Drop it! And don't move!" came a harsh voice from behind her, and Vala swivelled to notice Daniel glaring at Tomin, weapon pointed squarely at the man's chest.

* * *

**A/N: Bit longer chapter than usual--mostly because I could not decide between the Ori soldier/Tomin/Daniel cliffhangers. But then, choosing Daniel is always a good bet**_ //grins//_ **so, there we go. As always, I'm here (well, somewhere) to read and answer your thoughts and comments, so go ahead and drop me a line. Other than that, have a lovely week and hang tough--the holidays are just a few short days away!**

**Myosotis**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Happy New Year! **

**Apologies for the long delay in posting this! Funnily enough, there are tons of snow, shrubs and woolly, cloven-footed mammals in the mountains, but no Internet stations. Checked under every icy boulder, I did, too! **

**Also, I'm sorry if I missed replying to anyone's comments. The few times I did get a connection it dropped faster than you can say **_kawoosh! _**and it was never clear whether my mails or messages got sent. I'm really grateful for all of your reviews, though, and very happy you're enjoying the story! **

**Chapter XVIII: Best Laid Plans**

"_Tomin!"_

"_Vala…" _

"_You're…you're alive!"

* * *

_

"_Tomin, look, we have to go—"_

"_Drop it! And don't move!" came a harsh voice from behind her, and Vala swivelled to notice Daniel glaring at Tomin, weapon pointed squarely at the man's chest.

* * *

_

"No!" Vala reacted instinctively, stepping in front of Tomin and raising her palms in a classical defence posture. "Daniel, what are you doing?"

The archaeologist seemed slightly taken aback.

"What are _you_ doing?" he hissed at her between clenched teeth, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. Had she gone completely insane? Did she not remember their last unfortunate encounter with the man?

"Vala, step away," Mitchell instructed.

"No, you don't understand…"

"Vala, there's a fierce Ori _fanatic_ standing behind you with a _weapon_!" Daniel snapped. "What exactly are we supposed to understand?"

"No, this is Tomin—he's going to _help_ us!" She half-turned to the man behind her, eyes almost pleading for a confirmation that he neither gave nor denied. "Just…give me this," she said gently, taking the weapon he had picked up for her before turning back to her team mates. "See? No gun. No danger. Now put those down and let me explain."

"We don't exactly have time for explanations, Vala," Mitchell replied impatiently. "We could deal with the half a dozen soldiers back there, but there's a hell of a lot more on their way and _we need to get those maps_, now!"

He looked from her pleading expression to Tomin's unsure stance, to Daniel's steely glare, and knew that if ever the time had called for an executive decision, now was that moment. And he knew how Vala felt about second chances.

"Alright, let's move," he instructed, then nodded in Tomin's direction. "Teal'c, keep an eye on him. We'll deal with this after we get what we came for!"

* * *

They handled the few soldiers left in charge of the command centre relatively easily. However, they had barely set foot inside the room when shouts and footsteps resounded on the corridor. Teal'c took his eyes off Tomin for a second to cast a concerned glance towards the door that separated them from the hallway.

"It appears the numbers of our opponents are greater than anticipated."

"Jackson, can you find the data? Vala, help him access it!" Mitchell turned to face the door, weapon trained and ready. "I think our little shooting game out there disturbed prostration."

"That means the Prior's on his way here," Vala remarked while she attempted to access the ship's computers. "And every soldier on this ship is out for our blood."

"All the more reason to hurry, then!" He fired on the command panel next to the door, sending sparkles flying. "Let's hope that keeps them out."

"The Prior will open the doors." It was the first time Tomin had said anything, and Mitchell gave him a thoughtful glance. "His staff has control over everything."

"Good point," Cameron admitted. "Vala, the anti-Prior device?"

"In my backpack," she replied, never taking her eyes off the frustrating computer readings. "I. Can't. Get. This. Damn. thing. To. work!"

Shots resounded against the metal door, as the Ori soldiers outside had presumably figured out the commands were fried. A small commotion was heard, followed by an ominous silence.

"Here goes nothing," Mitchell muttered, and activated the device. And not a moment too soon, for the doors had already begun to slide sideways, the bright light of the Prior's staff visible through the widening opening. Then the light died down, and the doors ceased to move. "Yeah! How do you like that—"

"All unbelievers shall be punished," came the emotionless, sentential voice of the Prior. "Repent now, before you meet your end. The Ori are forgiving."

Even while she hit the keys with furious urgency, Vala found the time to let out a disdainful scoff. At the same time, weapon**s** fire burst into the room. Lacking other options, the soldiers outside had started shooting through the crack in the doors. Unfortunately for SG1, it was much easier for their enemies to fire inside the room, than it was for them to return fire. Sparkles and pieces of metal flew all around them.

"Take cover!" Mitchell yelled, diving behind a console. "Jackson, Vala, get the damned maps!" He activated the long-distance communication link. "Sam? Sam, you there? It's Mitchell."

Sam's voice came through some static.

"—_bit busy—now."_

"Do I want to know why?" he asked with a shake of his head. He should have known things would never go as planned.

"_Nothing—can't take care of—"_

Before he could say anything else, he noticed the soldiers had inserted a sort of metal wrench through the opening and were trying to further widen it. Teal'c fired a few times in their direction, but his shots harmlessly hit the door.

"Oh, crap. Listen, Sam, we might need you to get us out of here real quick."

"…_okay. Just say when."_

The doors began to slide open once more, as the Ori followers forced the wrench through. SG1 could hear the Prior giving instructions, and once more the soldiers opened fire on the people inside the command room, this time focusing on the console where Daniel and Vala worked. Before either of them realized what was happening, hot metal rained down on them. Vala found herself thrown to the floor by the impact of a shot that had struck uncomfortably close.

"No!"

Tomin had kept out of their way that far, but the moment he saw her hit the floor he rushed towards the console.

"I'm fine," she called, giving him a reassuring smile before pushing herself up and examining the charred ends of her sleeves with an expression of disgust. She exchanged a quick glance with Daniel. Someone had to keep working on that console. "Daniel, go align the data crystals that we need to take with us!"

The archaeologist was just opening his mouth to argue when several things happened at once.

The doors slid open another few inches with a horrible metallic sound. Another round of shots focused on them. And Tomin, giving Vala a long, determined look, grabbed the gun she had discarded on the floor, and stepped decidedly in front of the console, opening fire on the soldiers outside the door.

The initial surprise was enough to buy them a few seconds.

"Tomin!" Vala cried. "What are you doing?"

"Hurry, get…whatever it is you need! I will not let them fire on the console!"

She meant to say something else, but no words came to her. Instead, she jumped to her feet and rushed back to the station, identifying the exact location of the data crystals that held the maps. She shouted the serial number and correct sequence to Daniel, then proceeded to mask their absence and mess with a few other systems on the ship just to make sure the Prior would not pick up on their real intentions. All the while, she could hear weapons being fired all around her, and feel the hot draft on her skin; still, she refused to focus on anything but the flickering screen in front of her eyes.

Mitchell, on the other hand, watched in near fascination as the once fierce Ori fanatic turned on his own people, clumsily firing Vala's weapon with an expression of mixed horror and determination on his face. And Cameron could not tell whether it was fortune favouring the brave or plain fool's luck, but all fire from the Ori soldiers seemed to miss Tomin. It was a rather unique sight, one man standing unharmed in the middle of a battery of shots and blasts, firing blindly at people he could not even see clearly for the smoke and the flashes.

It took Mitchell about thirty seconds to get over the sheer disbelief and tackle Tomin, sending the man to the ground and out of harm's way.

"What do you think you're doing!" the colonel shouted angrily, as he all but dragged Tomin behind the half-burnt command chair. "This ain't the time for—"

"Got it!" Daniel's shout interrupted his reproof. The archaeologist waved a handful of data crystals through the air, before guarding them carefully in his rucksack.

The doors gave another metallic screech, as the wrench pushed them even further apart.

"Sam!" Mitchell immediately called.

"The anti-Prior device," Teal'c pointed out with a grave nod, and they all turned to notice the charred remains of the gadget. One of the soldiers' blasts had caught it only moments earlier.

The doors immediately slid open, and though Daniel and Teal'c fired freely, their bullets stopped against an invisible barrier.

"Tomin!" Vala caught the man's hand in both of hers. "Come with us! You'll be safe back on Earth!"

Daniel and Teal'c kept shooting, as the Prior's shield was, ironically enough, the only thing separating them from a mob of bloodthirsty Ori soldiers.

"We're running out of ammo here!" Daniel's voice carried through the constant barrage.

"Come back with us," Vala repeated, and Tomin had barely acquiesced with a half-hearted nod, when a circle of flames erupted around them.

"Sam, get us out of here, _now_!"

And just as the Prior raised his staff once more, and dozens of furious Ori fanatics stormed the room, they felt the familiar tingle of the Asgard beam.

* * *

**A/N: Updates should be coming somewhat more often, because I'm set to try and finish this before the movies come out (yesss, I'm so excited and anxious that I might need to petition the producers for a free coupon to a manicure salon!) in April or June or March or whenever. And we're about halfway through the story, so it's still a nice, long ride from the end. **

**Thank you for reading. Love to hear from you! Have a good week and stay warm :-)**

**Myosotis**


	19. Chapter 19

**No Smooth Seas**

_No man is rich enough to buy back his past. (Oscar Wilde)_

"Whoohoo!"

Used to Mitchell's exuberant displays, his team mates only smirked at the satisfied shout and the fist their leader waved through the air.

"Now _that's_ what I call a success Just what we signed up for!"

Sam and Daniel exchanged a knowing glance. Even after two years on the job, Mitchell still had his gosh-wow moments about being a part of SG1; at least they were fewer and far between.

Just then, Sam noticed someone else had beamed back to the Tel'tak with them. She frowned in slight puzzlement.

"Erm, hi…?" she greeted unsurely, directing a questioning glance towards the rest of SG1. It was Vala who took on the introductions.

"Tomin, this is our friend, Colonel Samantha Carter," she could not remember another time she had called Sam by her full title, and she still felt like she was forgetting some parts of it. "Sam, this is Tomin."

Carter's eyes widened in shock, but she managed to stop herself halfway through her exclamation of disbelief. She stared at the newcomer with renewed interest, while her mind revisited the memory of Vala's first description of Tomin. And here he was, in the flesh, right in front of her. Vala's husband. For all practical purposes, the father of her child. The peaceful villager who had cared for her and married her. The convinced Origin follower who had enrolled in the crusader army and led troops ravaging systems throughout their galaxy.

She did _not_ envy Vala right then.

"He's, uh, helped us a lot," Vala provided when she realized Sam was not going to say anything. "He wants to come back to Earth."

"Right…" Sam nodded, still wide-eyed at the revelation. "Well, uhm…welcome, I guess."

She snuck an almost involuntary glance at Daniel. (She was a woman, after all, and despite the general opinion, she did _not_ keep her head buried in astrophysics charts _all_ the time.) The archaeologist did not look happy with their new passenger. And who could blame him, considering the last time they had met, the man had tried to kill him?

"If you'll excuse us for a second…" Vala started, signalling Tomin towards the back of the ship. They needed to talk, and though the Tel'tak offered virtually no privacy, she could not wait the entire trip home to have a one-on-one with the man.

As she followed him towards the more private area of the Goa'uld cargo ship, she heard the low conversation among her friends, and Mitchell's indignant whisper.

"_What do you mean, her husband?!"_

_

* * *

_

"Congratulations on a job well done!" The General marched down to where they had landed the Tel'tak in the hangar, shaking his head with a relieved smile. "It's good to see you back in one piece, and successful!"

"More than that, Sir," Mitchell replied. "We got the maps, and I know _one_ Ori ship that needs some serious time in the pits."

Landry had just opened his mouth to reply, when he set eyes on Tomin for the first time. Immediately, the light tone and stance evaporated, and he returned his glance to Mitchell with a hint of dissatisfaction.

"Colonel? Who is our visitor?" he demanded.

Cam looked at the former Ori commander, who stood, awkward and uncertain, eyes darting rapidly among the unfamiliar green uniforms. He fixed an open yet vaguely hesitant glance on the General, seemingly unsure whether he should speak for himself or wait for whatever protocol they followed on Earth to become obvious. Keenly aware of Tomin's dilemma, Vala hurried to rescue him.

"General, this is Tomin," she introduced matter-of-factly, not missing the Landry's slight double-take. (Fortunately, the general was more tactful that Mitchell had been, and he kept her marital issues silent.) "He helped us get the maps and get off the ship safely," she added quickly. "And he is here to join us…to put an end this battle once and for all."

Landry inspected the newcomer with a critical eye, taking in Tomin's tense posture and his unassuming gaze. At the same time, he noticed how the man kept his jaw squared and chin slightly raised, in a subtle reaffirmation of a decision that had obviously not come easily. The general remembered Vala's story of Tomin and his fierce loyalties to the Ori. But he also remembered how she had described her…husband…as a gentle, caring man, and he could certainly recognize those qualities in the man in front of him.

Finally, he nodded.

"In that case…thank you for your help," he said, extending his right hand, "and welcome to Earth."

Tomin took a second to understand the significance of the gesture, than slowly mirrored it, taking the proffered hand, and nodding in his turn.

"Thank you…General."

* * *

"You!" 

The shout reverberated through the corridor and their small group stopped in mid-step. Vala's eyebrows shot upwards as one of the men in the hallway—a team-leader she had never met personally—halted in his tracks and faced Tomin in a fit of rage.

"Colonel, what is the meaning of this?" Landry demanded, while Tomin simply took a step back from his assaulter, fixing the man with a wary stare.

"General! This man was in command of the Ori troops we met on P3X-422! He ordered an entire village to be destroyed because its people wouldn't build the Ori altar! He's a criminal!" The colonel's furious glare turned back on Tomin. "I _saw_ you kill their leader when he refused to comply! Your men burnt every house to the ground!"

Landry heard the accusations in shock. He knew Tomin had been an Ori soldier, but no one had mentioned he had actually been a commander of the troops. This cast a new light on the man's apparent desertion. Was he genuinely repentant, or was it all a strategy to add Earth to a long list of converted-or-obliterated unbelievers?

"Now wait just a minute—" Vala pleaded with the angry team leader, but he did not even spare a glance in her direction.

"I almost lost my men back there, General," he went on, "and _his_ troops obliterated a peaceful people just for standing up to them! They fired on the village from orbit to make sure nothing was left standing!"

Daniel watched Tomin clench his fists, head turned bitterly sideways, as though the man had hit him in the face. Sam and Mitchell exchanged grim, but not shocked, looks, and the archaeologist realized he was the only one utterly surprised by the news.

Him and the General, that is, and Daniel gauged the older man was none too happy about that.

"Those are some very serious accusations you're making, Colonel," Landry warned. "I trust you have proof to support your words."

"I was there, I _saw_ it with my own eyes as _he_ gave the orders!" the man replied. "My men will all testify if they must. We can't allow his crimes to go unpunished, General!"

"You can't judge him without knowing—" Vala started to defend Tomin only to be interrupted by the enraged team leader once more.

"I know all I need to know," the colonel spat, "and that's that this man is an Ori fanatic who showed no mercy! I'm telling you, General, he can't be trusted!"

Landry kept silent for a moment, then nodded to two of the men who had followed them back from the hangar.

"Accompany him to a questioning room."

"General!" Vala was outraged, and she instinctively moved closer to Tomin, physically interposing herself between him and the two guards. "You can't—"

"Enough." Landry spoke quietly but forcefully. He could not afford to have his judgment questioned, and his stern look to her made it quite clear. To prevent Vala from interfering any longer, he completely ignored her when he addressed Tomin: "I apologize for this, and I guarantee no harm will come to you in our custody. But I cannot risk any threat to this base and its people. I will personally make sure your situation gets cleared as soon as possible," he continued honestly, "but this is a fight, and right now, safety must come first."

Tomin nodded slowly, his shoulders hunched and a look of immense sadness in his eyes.

"I understand. You do what you have to do," he told the General, then turned towards Vala, mustering the closest thing to a smile. "It's alright…"

She wanted to shout that it wasn't. She had promised him a safe haven on Earth, and he had followed her only to be met with anger and mistrust, to have his mistakes exposed and scorned by unlawful judges, and none of that was alright. She wanted to scream at the unjustness of it all, but the tight knot in her throat prevented her from talking, and she could only nod briskly as her eyes welled up.

Tomin reached a hand to touch her cheek, but stopped right before their skins made contact. His brow furrowed unsurely while his eyes pleaded with her, asking for forgiveness and asking for permission, and Vala felt immensely sorry for the man who had once been able to reach out openly and freely to anyone. She caught his palm in her own, and let it rest on her cheek for a second, asking for forgiveness in her turn.

She had to let go eventually, and she tried to silence the guilt as the guards led Tomin down the corridor and away from her.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for reading and following the story! Feedback is always loved:) Have a lovely weekend and stay warm!! **

**Myosotis**


	20. Chapter 20

**Tensions and Trust**

_"Il vaut mieux hasarder de_ _sauver_ _un coupable que de condamner un innocent. _

(Voltaire)

"_I understand. You do what you have to do," Tomin told the General, then turned towards Vala with an encouraging smile. "It's alright…"_

_She nodded briskly, her eyes welling up. _

_Tomin reached a hand to touch her cheek, but stopped right before their skins made contact. _

_She caught his palm in her own, and let it rest on her cheek for a long moment._

_He sighed when she let go, and she silently watched the guards led Tomin down the corridor and away from her._

Daniel watched the scene in stunned silence. He did not know what to make of it, or know how it made him feel, other than incredibly sad. There was a heartrending quality to the silent understanding that passed between Vala and Tomin. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, yet another part of him felt irritated and, somehow, wronged. Above all, he was confused.

It shocked him, how different she was around the man. Another person altogether. Sure, the odd flippant comment trickled through, but if he hadn't known better, he would have taken her for an actual…mature…adult. The way she looked at Tomin, the way she smiled, it was warm and caring and Daniel could not quite pin down the difference between that and the smiles she gave them.

And yet, as he watched her hug herself, rubbing her arms in such a sadly defensive gesture, he recognized the Vala he knew and it did not surprise him to see her vulnerable side. It showed so rarely, that he sometimes forgot it was there altogether, only to have it tear to the surface in a split-second and silently scold him for his studied insensitivity. And every time, it would subside quickly, leaving behind the old childish antics that drove him to exasperation.

"SG1…" Landry's voice brought Daniel out of his musings. "Report to the infirmary first for the check-up…debriefing will be in three hours. We will…discuss matters further, then."

With those words, he followed the guards down the hall, and Daniel briefly wondered how the General would talk to Tomin, what he would ask, what he would offer. He was not sure what kind of arrangement he would deem most appropriate, himself. But he bet it would involve Tomin, the SGC, and a respectable distance between the two.

He followed the rest of his team mates down the corridor towards the infirmary. None of them spoke. Sam and Mitchell were wary and carefully neutral, Vala was indignant. Teal'c was his usual, unflappable self. As for himself, he felt unreasonably irritable and frustrated, and he could not even begin to explain why.

* * *

Vala was not usually one to hide her emotions. Most of the time, she would gladly make known what she felt on any particular topic (and none too subtly, either.) So no one was surprised when, following Tomin's detention, she proceeded to make her thoughts on the subject known in every way possible. And quite a battery of methods she came up with: from steely glares and hostile silences, to sarcasm-laced muttering**s**, to full-blown angry protests. And between her agitated state and Jackson's pointedly stony expression, Mitchell finally felt it was time to try and defuse the tension. 

So he chose the moment when they were all waiting for the nurses to finish the check-up to interrupt Vala's latest frustrated tyrade.

"Listen, Vala, I know you're mad, that's normal—"

Her head turned to him so fast he imagined it made her dizzy. He was not surprised when she did not even allow him to finish, before directing all her annoyance at him.

"Damn right it's normal, Cameron," she hissed. "You'd be mad too if your—husband—was being treated as a criminal, when all he wants to do is help!" For the thousandth time, she shook her head in bafflement at the absurdity of their actions. She was grasping at straws and she knew it, but even so, she would try everything she could think of. "Isn't there some kind of law on your planet that states that one gets the same rights as the spouse after marriage? I'm sure I read about it somewhere…!"

Mitchell could feel a headache coming on.

"It doesn't work that way, and I won't even ask why you were reading up on that. Now look," he raised his palms in a pacifying gesture, "no one's saying anything about Tomin, but you can't deny he did all those things back when he was still commanding the Ori troops."

"But he never _wanted_ to harm anyone!" she explained emphatically.

Done with the check-up, Sam stood up from one of the neighbouring beds and walked to where Vala was still waiting for the return of the nurse. She gave the brunette an encouraging smile.

"I'm sure everything will get cleared up, okay?"

Vala did not seem reassured. She looked at each of her team-mates, lips pursed in an obvious expression of disappointment.

"I trust him," she said simply, then after a few seconds' pause, added in an almost petulant tone. "You should trust him, too!"

"On your word alone, Vala?" Daniel almost managed to keep the ironic disbelief out of his voice. "He led Ori troops rampaging through the galaxy until a few days ago, weeks at best!"

She stood up angrily, and Mitchell briefly wondered if he was going to end up having to break the two of them up.

"He's not like that, Daniel, you don't know him!"

"Alright, fine, then I'm sure he'll have no trouble convincing the General he's not what he appears to be!" the archaeologist retorted.

Vala stiffened her shoulders, about to bite back another annoyed reply, and Mitchell wanted to cut in and stop the dispute before it gained momentum. Teal'c, however, beat him to it. Towering behind Daniel, the Jaffa adopted his composed yet unmistakably dominant tone.

"Daniel Jackson is correct," he remarked. "Once your husband has satisfactorily supported his allegiance, General Landry will undoubtedly allow him to join us in the fight against the Ori."

"That's right," Sam hurried to add, taking advantage of the fact that Vala seemed reluctant to snap at Teal'c. "Look, you know the drill, it's protocol, we have to go through this, for everyone's protection."

"But you don't need protection from Tomin!" Vala argued.

Mitchell exhaled slowly, shaking his head.

"Isn't he the one who _shot_ you back way back when on the Ori ship?"

"That's not how it was," she defended, "he was aiming at Daniel!"

Mitchell arched an eyebrow.

"Not your best argument."

She huffed, but kept silent, and they all took that as a good sign. In all honesty, they knew things were not by far, as simple as they were trying to make them sound. Vala would have to accept a lot of enmity towards Tomin, prejudice and distrust.

"I'm sure the General will let you speak on his behalf," Sam said.

She did not say anything at all about how much harder it had become for the SGC higher-ups to trust outsiders. Sam could still remember the beginning of the Stargate project, back when they used to emphasize exploration, forging new relationships, learning about the galaxy. Back when they used to trust in good intentions. But too many bad things had happened, betrayals and misunderstandings that had led to tragedy too many times. And even the formerly open and trusting Tau'ri people had begun to draw lines and nurture doubts.

"His actions aboard the Ori ship will surely attest to his good faith," Teal'c said.

He did not say anything at all about how hard it would be for Tomin to _really_ fit in among them, or anywhere else, for that matter. The Jaffa had all too much experience with the pains and solitude that followed such a radical change of allegiance. He did not mention how the knowledge of having done the right thing did not always make up for the loss of an entire life.

"So better focus all that energy on making a damn good case for him," Mitchell said.

He did not say how there were too few people willing to listen to anyone but themselves when it came to making decisions. As a team leader, he had had to take part in more bureaucratic meetings than any of them, and he knew all about the frustration of making a case when no one was listening. Landry would, at least, give Tominfair treatment—but even the General had a hard time keeping control under the so-called supervision of the IOA.

"Right," Vala nodded. They were all right, she was perhaps overreacting. After all, they had all been there so much longer, they had to know what they were talking about. Tomin would be released as soon as the General understood that he was a good man, who could be trusted. "Right," she repeated. "Well, what are we waiting around here for, then? The sooner we go debrief the General, the sooner he'll get it that Tomin's no danger at all, and let him help us!"

The four of them exchanged silent looks, but no one was too keen to shoot down her optimistic theory.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who sent their feedback on the last part--hearing (well, reading, really) your thoughts always makes my day. And thank you for reading!**

**Until next time, then! Myosotis**


	21. Chapter 21

**Confrontation**

_"You know that 'we come in peace business'? Bite me." (Jack O'Neill)_

Things were not going good. Mitchell did not even need to witness the grave frown on Landry's face, or the angry expression on Colonel Whatshisname's, or the holier-than-thou preoccupation on Woolsey's to know that the meeting was unfolding remarkably badly.

He refused to even look towards Vala. Seated on the General's immediate right at the round table they used for debriefs, she had—to her credit—come in with a good-natured desire to set things straight. And had promptly hit a wall of condescension and mistrust.

Cameron had cringed when she had asked why Tomin wasn't allowed to attend the meeting, and Woolsey had gone off on a rant about security risks and hostile aliens. He had actually been quite impressed when she had managed to ignore the man, but not even her uncharacteristic patience had helped matters any. Woolsey—and by extension, the IOA—plainly declared they intended to press Tomin for information on the Ori, and requested that he be released to their custody. The other colonel, on his part, kept arguing that the man should be tried and convicted for crimes against the people of this galaxy. Words like "liability", "planetary safety" and "hostile prisoner" did not make things any smoother, either.

But worst of all, Mitchell knew, was that not even SG1 was entirely convinced of Tomin's good intentions. That was why he did not really want to look at Vala right then. He knew she felt like she was fighting all alone. She wasn't, really. All of them, and Landry, were more than open to arguments in Tomin's favour—but they had to be true to what they believed in, and at that moment, they believed in the possibility that the man she knew had died when Tomin had first enrolled in the Ori crusader army.

"Is it not conceivable that he has realized the Ori are false gods?"

True, not all of them doubted Tomin in the same degree. Teal'c had spoken a few times, and not even Woolsey had seemed inclined to dismiss the Jaffa's arguments the same way he constantly dismissed Vala's.

"Of course, it's a _possibility_," the civilian admitted with a shrug, "but I'm asking you, do we have any _proof_? Surely you can't expect us to just take his word for it—_or_," he quickly added as he saw Vala about to cut in, "Ms. Mal Doran's word. Don't get me wrong, I know we can, uh, trust you," he addressed her, "but you're much too involved to be objective. In fact, I'm not even sure she should be here," he told the General in a lower tone, "as I have expressed several times over the course of this meeting—"

"Yes, indeed, quite a few times," Landry remarked dryly, "and I have made itclear several times, myself, that I trust Ms. Mal Doran's capacity to remain objective throughout this discussion."

That, Mitchell felt, might have been unduly optimistic, but he was not about to argue. Tomin certainly needed an advocate, as the tides were so overwhelmingly against him. So Cameron was not too sorry to watch the general subtly reprimand Woolsey for his absurd appeals.

"Dr. Jackson!"

Daniel groaned inwardly. He had managed to keep silent thus far, and was hoping he could go through the meeting without having to declare a standpoint. Because, in all honestly, he was not sure of where he stood on the issue—or why.

"Dr. Jackson," Woolsey repeated, "you came into contact with the prisoner before, haven't you?"

"Not so much," Daniel replied noncommittally.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't he on the Ori ship you boarded when the Ori armada first came through the supergate?" Clearly, Woolsey had done his homework. He flicked through a thick blue folder in front of him on the table. "The mission reports were a little vague about that, but they did mentioned he was hostile, and even ended up wounding Ms. Mal Doran, herself. I mean, if he did not hesitate to fire on his own, eh…wife—"

Daniel cringed at the word. They were all tiptoeing around the issue of Vala's marital status, but it was clearly one more knot in the bureaucratic debacle that was Tomin's situation. Woolsey was using it in turn to discredit Vala's arguments and Tomin's character, and if Danielhad not been so thoroughly confused about the whole thing, he would have very much liked to hit him over the head with the folder the little man was clutching so fiercely.

"We were kind of in the middle of a battle," Daniel argued half-heartedly, "people react in funny ways at times like those…oh, and shooting Vala really was an accident," he added as an afterthought.

"But did it seem at all to you like the man was doubting his allegiance to the Ori?" Woolsey insisted, and Daniel suddenly felt like he was on the stand. For the wrong side.

"He…well, no," he admitted, "but that was a while ago and I mean, it's possible that—"

"Again that word, 'possible'," the civilian shook his head. "General, I can certainly see why having a former Ori commander on our side would be a formidable advantage, but the mere _possibility_ that he might be telling the truth is simply not enough to go on!"

"Oh, but the _possibility_ that he might be lying is enough to condemn him, is that what you're saying?" Vala argued in annoyance. "Because let me tell you, that sounds pretty hypocritical—"

"This is not an issue of hypocrisy! It's an issue of weighing risks and benefits!"

"It's an issue of weighing someone's life against a load of—"

"Vala," Mitchell hissed under his breath.

"—prejudice!" she finished, not even having heard him; he breathed easy nonetheless.

"Dr. Jackson!" Woolsey turned to him again, in near exasperation. "You said the man did not seem to question the Ori. He opened fire on you. We know for a fact that he led the troops in God-only-knows how many assaults on villages filled with innocent people." Woolsey clasped his hands together and pointed them at Daniel. "You're an expert on alien contact, Dr. Jackson. So what's your recommendation? Would you, in good conscience, recommend that we take the prisoner's word that he no longer serves our enemy?"

Daniel felt his mouth go dry, as all eyes in the room seemed to turn to him.

* * *

Vala suddenly became aware of a dull pain in the palm of her hands, and remarked with a sort of fascinated detachment that she her nails had dug in deep enough to draw red welts on her skin. She imagined it was the price to pay for being patient and tolerant to all the small-minded absurdities that were being flung around in the meeting room. But the angry crimson lines in her palm were not enough to draw her focus away from Daniel. She watched him, almost holding her breath as he pondered Woolsey's question, and to her horror and disbelief, she thought she saw him starting to shake his head— 

"Mr. Woolsey!" Landry boomed before Daniel got the chance to form any reply. "Do I need to remind you that you have no right to interrogate my people? You've expressed your point of view—quite clearly, I may say—and I will take that into consideration when I make my decision."

"With all due respect, General, I'm not so sure this _is_ your decision to make."

Under different circumstances, Vala would have been interested in the exchange. She still did not understand the balance of power within the SGC, and any occasion to observe it was welcome. But at the moment, she was unable to tear her gaze from Daniel. The question haunted her: was he really going to recommend that Tomin not be trusted?

The other man, the colonel whose name she did not remember, started shouting again. He called Tomin a criminal, and Vala could not understand how he, how _anyone_, could say that about the man she knew. Could they really not see the driving force beyond his actions? They kept arguing about what he had done, and no one ever stopped to wonder about the person that he _was_.

"I mean, anything he could share with us would be priceless, can we really risk ignoring that opportunity?" Sam was saying, and Vala felt half-grateful, half-indignant; she could tell her friend was trying to be helpful, but the tone was unmistakably doubtful.

If they were going to keep their doubts silent out of friendship, or sympathy, or whatever it was, they could at least do a good job of it, she thought bitterly.

The battle of words kept going, and it kept going nowhere; Vala swallowed hard as people around the table talked and talked, incensed and indignant, and she could feel her own anger well up inside.

* * *

"_We have already applied for custody of the prisoner—"_

"_Big surprise, there. If you think he's so dangerous, why not just leave him here, for us to deal with?"_

"_Now, Colonel, I'm not sure I appreciate what you're implying…"_

"_Mr. Woolsey, I'm not sure _I_ appreciate your failure to inform me of the actions the IOA is taking with regard to Tomin."_

The civilian froze for a second, obviously aware that he had broken protocol.

"Well…eh…I mean, I thought it would be obvious he would not be allowed to remain on base, not with all the information he's holding, not with all the risks!"

"With the risk of sounding clichéd," Landry replied, the tiniest bit of sarcasm lacing his words, "it's the SGC's job to take those kinds of risks."

"And it's the _IOA's_ job to make sure that in taking those risks, the SGC doesn't release a threat to the entire planet!" Woolsey defended. "General, I absolutely oppose taking on such a security risk, the President—"

"_The President_, Mr. Woolsey," Landry spoke slowly, "still trusts my decisions as the leader of SGC, _despite_ the IOA's repeatedly voiced misgivings."

"In any case," the little man quickly recovered, "the point is we have absolutely no facts to go on to prove this man is anything else but an Ori spy."

"He's not a spy," the other colonel spat, "he's a cold-blooded criminal!"

"He is _not_ a criminal!"

"Vala, _sit down_," Mitchell hissed from the corner of his mouth, trying not to draw any attention to the fact that she had jumped up from her chair and was now facing the resentful SGC colonel with a hard-set expression.

"Tomin is not a criminal," she repeated, refusing to sit back down. Maybe if she towered over all of them, they would stop ignoring her arguments.

"Tell that to all the people his men killed," the man countered.

Mitchell shook his head. They were obviously in a gridlock. And worst of all, while he certainly trusted Vala's judgment, he could not forget the day when they had met Tomin's troops back in that village. The soldiers had been savage and ruthless; how much different could their commander be?

"We all make mistakes," Vala argued. "But how many of us actually have the courage to try and fix them?"

Cameron decided to intervene before the colonel set her off with another angry remark. He pushed his chair back a little, so he did not have to crane his neck too much to look up at her.

"Why are you so sure he wants to help us?"

"Because I know him, and he's a good man!"

He sighed. The 'good man' argument was just not going to cut it with the IOA…or anyone, for that matter.

"Vala…he ordered entire villages to be slaughtered."

A split-second too late, he realized that had been the wrong thing to say. But she had already clenched her fists, facing him with a narrow-eyed glare.

"And how clean are _your_ hands, Cameron? How many Ori soldiers did _you_ shoot?" She lowered her head towards him, to make the words more powerful. "Do you want to know some of their names? They had families, too, they were people just like you and me. But it was a war," she shook her head, mercifully redirecting her focus towards the whole table, "and we did what we thought was the right thing. And if someone is to judge which of the two causes was right, it shouldn't be us, and it shouldn't be them."

She sighed. Her words were followed by silence, and she was almost grateful. Clasping her hands together, she resumed her passionate plea.

"Tomin didn't do those horrible things because of hatred, he did it because he believed in their crusade, because he was angry and lost, and now he wants to change and none of us should have the right to deny him that! Not when we shot so many of his men, blew up their ships and never looked back."

"In case you forgot, they attacked us, destroyed planets, killed people—including _yourself_, once!—and they're still running rampant in our galaxy. They need to be stopped!"

Vala turned such a venomous look on him that Woolsey actually pushed against the back of his chair.

"Then why don't _you_ go out there and stop them? Or is it a lot easier to just totter around here on base, ratting off instructions and making easy judgments?" Her tone was becoming louder, as she focused her indignant anger on Woolsey. "How _dare_ you scorn Tomin when he's worth so much more than you ever will be? _He_ was out there and he had the courage to turn his back on everything he ever believed in, everything he ever _was_, to come to us and do the right thing, and you're _condemning_ him instead of respecting that courage?"

"Alright that's enough."

Landry had stood up as well, and it was only that that made Vala fall silent—though she still cast challenging glares at everyone around the table, chin thrust into the air, as though daring them to argue again.

"This meeting is over," Landry declared curtly. "Colonel," he eyed the resentful man, "neither you nor your men will have any contact with the prisoner. Understood? Mr. Woolsey," he turned to the civilian, "my office in twenty minutes. If you so much as _think_ of contacting the IOA by then," he added in a low, warning tone, "I will make sure you never set foot on this base again." The little man seemed ready to argue, than thought better of it and nodded silently. Satisfied, Landry finally turned to Vala, and his eyebrows drew together in a deep, menacing frown. "You…" he rasped, inhaling sharply. "My office. Now." He then swept the rest of the table with a sharp glance. "The rest of you, dismissed."

* * *

**A/N: I've been trying to update more often, about once or twice a week. This kind of updating time is a whole new territory for me--is it too often? Does it make it hard to follow the story?Unlike ever before, I actually have a few more chapters ready, so I would definitely appreciate suggestions on how often to post. **

**And of course, your thoughts on this latest chapter are welcome and appreciated :)! **

**Myosotis**


	22. Chapter 22

**Never Assume**

_Thinking you know when in fact you don't is a [... mistake, to which we are all prone. (Bertrand Russel)_

"Does anyone want to talk to Vala?" Silence met his wary inquiry and Mitchell bit his lips, nodding. "Right. She chewed us out pretty well," he let out a silent whistle of amazement. Only moments before, Landry had left the meeting room with a menacing scowl, and Vala had followed him to his office in hostile silence. "I've never seen her like this."

"Indeed." Teal'c harboured a dissatisfied frown. "She appeared quite displeased with the proceedings."

"No wonder, with all beating 'round the bush," Cam shook his head and sighed. "So what do you think, will Landry buy Tomin's story?"

"Do _you_?" asked Daniel.

"Don't _you_?" Cam replied evenly.

Silence fell once more.

"He won't let the IOA have him," Sam finally put in, after a long moment.

"That won't stop them from trying," Mitchell reasoned. "They'll go to the higher-ups—the higher-_up_," he rectified. "The President could give them the go, no love lost between him and Landry lately."

"Is the President still concerned that General Landry will attempt to attain his position?"

"_What_?" Sam almost laughed in disbelief at Teal'c's question. "That's ridiculous!"

"Political paranoia," Cam corrected her. "Only ridiculous till you're out of the chair. Landry was president in that other reality, so maybe the big boss worries he'll start getting ideas and want to pick up the other end of that red phone…"

"Oh come on," Sam scoffed, "like that would ever happen."

"In any case, Landry will have a hard time keeping Tomin if the IOA gets the green light from D.C." Cam rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And we'll have a hard time keeping Vala from hijacking a ship, blasting into that cell and springing him out."

Daniel had not been paying much attention to their debate, but Mitchell's last words brought him out of his reverie, head snapping up in alarm.

"_What_? That's insane, she wouldn't do that, thatwould get her into so much trouble—" he stopped for a second, eyes widening at the realization that that sounded _exactly_ like something Vala would do. Still, he shook his head. "No, even Vala isn't that reckless, she wouldn't risk her place here with us…" Would she, he thought to himself.

Mitchell gave him a grim look.

"_That's_ why we need to talk to her."

He opened his mouth to add something when they all heard the distinct sound of a door slamming shut. They exchanged wary glances. Had it been the door to Landry's office? Cam groaned.

"So. Any volunteers?"

* * *

_Minutes earlier… _

It had been quite a number of years since Vala had been grounded, and even longer since she had cared about being grounded. Yet, as she followed Landry to his office, she felt remarkably like she did during those times in her youth when she followed her mother to her room for 'a talk'. Oh, how she had dreaded those 'talks'—which were really mostly monologues on her mother's part and chagrined silences on Vala's. And to her endless surprise, it was the exact same sensation she was getting now. Even through the anger, through the stomach-churning frustration, Vala felt a tinge of the old childlike guilt at her actions.

But the fresh memory of Woolsey's suggestions and the other colonel's accusing shouts still grated her. And the thought of Tomin, left all alone in a cold, grey interrogation room to ponder his mistakes…the sheer unfairness of it made her want to scream.

In that ambivalent state of mind, Vala stepped into the General's office. Landry was making his way to the chair behind his desk.

"Close the door," he told her in a low tone, and she complied, taking longer than necessary to push it closed. Once she could no longer stall, though, she turned back to face Landry, standing, lips slightly pursed and chin thrust defiantly into the air. She fixed her gaze on the bookcase behind him.

"Sit down," the General invited with false casualness, as he organized some of the folders on his desk.

"I'd rather—"

"Sit!" he barked, and finally raised his eyes to give her a no-nonsense glare.

Vala sat down.

Lips pressed tightly together in a dissatisfied expression, Landry averted his stern gaze and wheezed a long sigh. He picked up a random pen from his desk and tapped it against the wood for a second, before putting it back down and clasping his hands in front of him on the table.

"Do you know," he started slowly, in a calm tone, "how many people work for the SGC?"

Vala frowned slightly. _That_ had not been the conversation starter she had anticipated. As the General seemed to be expecting an answer, she offered a brief shake of her head.

"Over two hundred on this base alone," he informed her. "Plus the people we have on the alpha and beta sites, and countless more off-base dealing with paper-work and public relations. That makes over five hundred, spread across the continent and across the galaxy, who must all coordinate, communicate, overcome the distances and differences and work together for the same goals, otherwise the entire Stargate program would come crashing down in chaos."

He narrowed his eyes at her as he asked the next question.

"And do you know _how_ all these people manage to function cohesively as a whole?"

Chewing nervously on her lower lip, eyes fixed carefully on the desk between them, Vala did not acknowledge the question. But this time Landry was not waiting for an answer.

"Authority," he spoke clearly, and the word resounded strangely in the windowless office. "A concept which is, admittedly, somewhat new to you, and I knew that when I took you on as a member of my base," he conceded in a somewhat mellower fashion. "However, I also hoped that this—arrangement, would be important enough for you to want to learn and adapt. That you would make an effort to accommodate to the system of authority that keeps this base working." His tone had become stern again, and he shook his head, shrugging in disappointment. "But the scene I have just witnessed makes me wonder if I have been deluding myself all along."

Vala's head snapped upward, and she made no effort to hide her hurt and offended look.

"That is _not_—" she started, but Landry was not quite done yet.

"That is _exactly_ how things are, Ms. Mal Doran, or else how would you explain your repeated failure to follow even the most basic of rules, those of Common Sense," he stressed for her, then raised a finger in warning. "Oh, don't fool yourself. No matter how bravely or cleverly or rightfully you _think_ you acted, what you _really_ did back there was hurt your own cause and undermine the one person in authority who was not entirely against it. And I," he rumbled, "do not appreciate being put in that position, or having to worry about handling my own people instead of handling the issue at hand."

"Well you were not _handling_ it very well, were you," said Vala, "they already had everything set for Tomin to be locked up and tortured for information—"

"They had _nothing_," Landry snapped back, "but opinions and accusations, before _you_ jumped in and gave them exactly what they were looking for: proof that Tomin's presence on this base is a disrupting element. Now tell me," he continued, his deep voice booming even though he did not shout, "how will I argue when the IOA claims—and legitimately so—that his being here is a risk to the integrity of the SGC? Your reckless behaviour and complete disregard of rules makes their case all the stronger, and how long do you think it is before they take it a step further and demand that _you_ be questioned, as well?"

He was finally satisfied to notice a hint of shock and apprehension in Vala's expression, and allowed his ominous tirade to continue for a while longer.

"I do not appreciate losing someone like Tomin, who could be so valuable to us, to the IOA," he admitted, "but I like it even less when I am faced with losing one of my people as well, and because of their _own_ damn foolhardiness! So I want you to mark my words, Ms. Mal Doran," he warned with a deep scowl. "You might have been used to fighting alone, but that was over the moment you joined this base, and SG1. You don't _get_ to break off on your own whenever you feel like it anymore. You don't _get_ to regard orders as optional and negotiable. If you're part of my team, you better start acting like it!"

"Well, if that's how you're going to treat someone like Tomin, I'm not sure I want to be a part of it."

Her voice had lowered towards the end of the sad pronouncement, as though she were not entirely sure of its truthfulness, herself. But there was still the same edge of defiance to her tone, the same angry quiver of her lower lip as she regarded the general in silent resentment.

"Really." Landry had reclined against the back of his chair, joining his fingers and was giving her a long, hard look. "You feel, perhaps, that my judgment is unfair and intolerant? That I ask you to respect my prejudiced rulings against your own beliefs?"

He should have been fuming, but he was surprised to discover reserves of patience he never would have suspected existed within him. With another furious sigh, he leaned forward in his chair, picking up a file from his desk and all but slamming it down in front of her. Vala fixed the yellow folder with a confused frown.

"Open it," he curtly demanded.

Vala flipped the cover open, regarding the document inside with a vague interest. However, as soon as her eyes had skimmed the first lines on the white paper, her expression grew alert. Landry watched as she rapidly took in the rest of the text, taking some small measure of satisfaction in watching her eyes widen as the meaning penetrated her mind. Ha, he harrumphed to himself, that would teach her.

Surely enough, as soon as she had read the last word, Vala raised her eyes to him in shock. She opened her mouth to say something, but failed to decide on what to say, and simply stood there gaping at him, her earlier hostile frown completely replaced by an overwhelmed sort of confusion.

"Yes," Landry finally decided to spare her the prolonged silence, "that is an order—signed, as you might have noticed, by the President—granting the SGC temporary custody of Tomin. That," and he nodded towards the file, "came through about twenty minutes after the incident in the hallway. That is what I went into the meeting with, and _that_ is what you may very well have rescinded through your behaviour!" he boomed once more. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Vala bit her lips, her earlier indignation giving way to the strangest sensation of mixed contentedness and shame. She swallowed hard, with a lopsided nod.

"Well—if you had _told_ me about this, I naturally wouldn't have assumed you were going to let Tomin be taken away—"

"You seem to grasp the concept of trust no better than that of authority," scolded Landry. "If you truly thought I was going to let the IOA imprison and mistreat him, than all the time you have spent with us has taught you nothing about the very essence of the SGC and its people."

"But I—"

"That's enough," he cut off her protest. "I know perfectly well what you _thought_ you knew and what you thought was the right think to do. What I want _you_ to know is that I expect this to be the last time I need to worry about your skewed sense of authority or team-work. I expect better judgment from you from now on."

He straightened his back, reached over the desk for the file with the presidential order, and snapped it shut with a definitive _flick_.

"No more half-measures, Ms. Mal Doran," he told her with his deepest, most earnest scowl. "You're either in or out. And if you're in, you better damn make me believe you really want to be here. Dismissed."

* * *

Seconds after Vala had left his office, Landry allowed himself to relax a little, and sighed. He scoffed silently at himself as he realized he had just given Vala a "while you life under my roof, you obey my rules" kind of lecture. Carolyn's mother would have been proud of him.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks, everyone, for reading this! Your feedback is like mint-flavoured hot chocolate on a snowy day //grins// so drop me a thought or a comment, I love hearing from you:)!**

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: See? Promised I wouldn't abanon this, and I'm sticking to it:)! **

**As a side note, this chapter, beside being remarkably overdue, is also un-beta-ed (because I'm having some issues accessing my mail account.) Hopefully it does make at least some sense, though!**

**To everyone who is still with this story despite the ridiculous update times, thanks a million:)**

**The Road of Good Intentions**

He seemed so alone, Vala thought as she walked into the room. Even as he raised his eyes to her, and she noticed a gleam of relief, even joy, in his gaze, he still seemed wrapped in a shroud of solitude. In a way, he had always been like that, all alone; in some form or other, there had always been something isolating him from the rest of the world.

"Hey," she greeted softly before closing the door behind her.

"Vala…" he responded with a small smile. "They let you see me."

She walked to where his was sitting at the table, pulling a chair next to his.

"Are you alright?" She took in his drawn appearance, his weary gaze, and let out a sigh. "I didn't know they'd do this, Tomin…I thought—"

"It's fine…I understand," he nodded sadly. "After all…I am the enemy."

Vala shook her head. She had never really dwelled on her role in the war against the Ori, thinking instead that bigger wheels had been in motion long before she had even entered the picture. She did not let herself think of _what if_s and _if only_s. And if there was one thing Vala had become quite adept at over the course of her eventful existence, it was keeping her mind away from hurtful memories and issues. But the sight of Tomin, hearing his words, it forced her to face the consequences of her own actions.

And Vala was exceedingly bad at that.

"You're not the enemy, Tomin," she finally told him, pushing away the unwelcome thoughts once more. "You know that's not true."

"Isn't it? Who can blame them for believing it? That man…the man in the hallway…he believed it."

"He was _wrong_--" Vala started to argue, but Tomin interrupted her agitatedly.

"He was _right_, don't you see? He was right! Everything he said, it's all true! _Everything_! Why do you keep denying it, Vala," he demanded, half-standing as his voice rose higher, "why are you even here when you know so well that I've done all they accuse me of doing!!"

She was startled by his sudden anger, but it was gone as suddenly as it had set in, and Tomin let himself drop back into his seat.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, not even looking her in the eye.

Vala swallowed hard, biting her lower lip as she watched him slump in dejection. She almost resented him that second; to her, Tomin was the living proof of how badly she could mess up.

She reached out to take his hands in hers, a gesture Tomin so often inspired in her, along with a smile she barely realized she was offering. But this time he did not hopefully squeeze her palms, as he used to, nor did he display that goofy grin that she found so endearing. Instead, he drew back and shook his head, his gaze fixed angrily on the table top as he spoke:

"All those things I did…all the people…I see their faces…all unbelievers, destroyed for their heresy! That's what I blindly shouted to my men… and they ran them all through fire and spears. Women and children and old people who could barely hobble away from our troops."

"Tomin, stop torturing yourself—"

"I went where the Priors told me to go—they needed but point and I brought down my soldiers on all unbelievers! I did all they told me to do, not caring even once that their orders went against the very essence of Origin!"

"Don't…" she pleaded again, tiredly rubbing her temples, eyes closed.

"No, Vala, they're all right to doubt me. I've done nothing to deserve their trust, only their anger and hatred. I am the murdered they say I am. I did—"

"You know what?" Her voice was dangerously low and sharp when she interrupted him. Her eyes shot open only to give him an icy stare he had never thought her capable of. "I've had this conversation with too many people, Tomin. I _refuse_ to have it with you!"

She leaned closer to him, lending her quiet, angry words even more power.

"I _know_ what you did. And let me tell you, we _all_ do things that we're not proud of. Everyone has a past, and the best we can hope to do is learn to live with it!" She heard her voice rising and checked it, continuing on a calmer tone. "I'm here because I want to help you with that, but if what you want is to just…just _sit_ here and drown in misery and self pity, then I refuse to participate in it any longer!"

She stood up in irritation as she spoke the last words, placing her palms on the table in a manifest of exasperation. The feel of cold metal against her skin helped ground her anger somewhat. And suddenly Vala felt immensely contrite for the things she had said. It was certainly not his fault that she was unable to own up to her own mistakes.

"Oh, Tomin…"

She let out a sigh, pressing a hand against her burning cheeks in an attempt to make the last traces of annoyance go away.

"I'm sorry," she said simply.

Tomin's wide eyes fixed her with a shocked gaze. Never before had she ever as much as raised her voice at him. He just stared at her for a long moment…

…then he lowered his eyes and shook his head.

Vala reached a hand to touch him, then changed her mind. She hovered uncertainly for another second, before turning on her heels and slowly walking out of the room.

* * *

To say that Daniel was surprised to see her show up outside his room would have been an understatement. He was just opening the door to leave, when he saw her standing there, hand poised as though to knock, though when she saw him she actually took a step backwards, as though caught in some illicit act. Daniel could certainly relate—he was close to physically retreating, himself.

"Eh. Hi…" he greeted cautiously. Surely enough, the discomfort washed over him again—for the last couple of days, whenever he laid eyes on Vala, he was gripped by a vague sort of guilt. Perhaps something more along the lines of an uneasy conscience. He felt he had somehow failed her as a friend. "What's…going on?"

She simply watched him silently, and Daniel realized he was keeping her out in the hallway. Clumsily, he stepped aside and invited her in with a slight nod.

"What's going to happen, Daniel?" she started without preamble as soon as she had crossed the threshold. She actually looked at him as though he could possibly hold the answer to that question, and he closed the door as slowly as he could.

"I…don't know," he finally admitted. "It's complicated. I'm sure Landry won't let the IOA have Tomin—" Vala grimaced and let out a small groan—"it'll all get sorted out in the end…"

It sounded dry and superficial even to his own ears, but truthfully he had no better answer. Vala did not seem to really want one, though, and her next statement surprised him.

"I don't know how to help him, Daniel." She shook her head, and he recognized the childish air that she would sometimes adopt. "I keep trying, honestly, but I keep doing things backwards! I thought I was helping him get away from the Ori by asking him to come here—and look how that backfired! I tried to stand up for him in the meeting and just made things worse! I tried to talk to him, tell him everything will work out, and he ended up hating me!" She turned to him, eyes widening persuasively as she threw her hands up. "I'm absolutely _terrible_ at helping people!"

Daniel was taken aback by her sudden vehemence.

"Whoa, hold on, Vala," he raised his palms in a pacifying gesture, "what are you _talking_ about? Of course you've been helping! You've made a great case for Tomin."

She huffed.

"I dragged him into this whole mess in the first place!"

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but she steamrolled on; there was no stopping her, as she furiously paced his room, addressing herself as much as him.

"He was leading such a peaceful life before I—literally—dropped in and screwed it up! If it hadn't been for me, he would've probably been married to a decent woman who spent her time _following_ the Ori instead of constantly pissing them off, and I bet _her_ kids wouldn't have tried to enslave the galaxy before the age of one!"

She paused shortly to draw a breath, and Daniel caught the opportunity to intervene.

"Vala, look, none of what's happening is your responsibility—"

"If I hadn't gotten myself sucked through the Ori supergate, Tomin would not be in this situation! In fact," she realized, turning to him and holding up her index to emphasize her point, "_no one_ in this galaxy would be in this situation! Adria would have never been born, and she would have never led the ships through, and—"

"Vala, I'm pretty sure you weren't the only woman in the Ori galaxy," he interrupted with a sigh. "They would've gotten their Orici one way or another…"

"You don't know that," she argued, "and anyway, maybe whoever else they would've picked for this lovely role would've been a lot _better_ at it! Maybe they picked me because I was the _one_ person with no ability _whatsoever_ to educate another human being, let alone an absurdly powerful child—"

Daniel let out a soft groan and allowed himself to shut her out for a moment. When had the conversation switched from Tomin to Adria, and why was Vala standing there, waving her hands furiously and decidedly claiming that she had single-handedly messed up pretty much all of two galaxies?

"Okay, first off, Adria was never a child, she was always an _Ori_ in the _body_ of a human," he explained slowly, as though he were talking to an impatient six year-old. "There was nothing you could've said or done that would've changed what she was or what she wanted to do."

"I never even tried, Daniel. All I _ever_ thought about, even when she was still young—the whole two days, that is—was how I could get _away_ from her. Maybe if I'd tried to get through to her, tried to win her over to our side, to convince her that the Ori are evil and it's simply wrong to—"

"No!" His own vehemence surprised him, and Daniel realized her words reminded him of someone else. He sighed and leaned against the small table in his room, in an attempt to wash away some of the tension. "Sorry. See…you're not the first to think that. A few years ago, one of Teal'c's friends from Chulak…she managed to communicate with her symbiote and thought she had convinced it that the Goa'uld are evil and oppressive. It told her it wanted to switch sides and join the Tok'ra."

"What? That's ridiculous," Vala scoffed. "A Goa'uld would never do that."

"It wouldn't," Daniel confirmed quietly. "It didn't. That's what I'm trying to say, Vala. There's no changing someone's real nature, no matter how much you want to. You couldn't have stopped Adria from being the Orici."

He watched her ponder his words, and wondered once more how their discussion had digressed so. He had never thought Vala felt quite so responsible for Adria—she was right, it did always seem as though she treated the entire issue rather lightly. And Daniel could well understand that: he could not even begin to imagine what it would be like trying to decide exactly how liable you were for the problems of an entire galaxy. But now Adria was gone; was that why Vala was suddenly dwelling on the issue more than ever before?

"Do you trust Tomin, Daniel?"

Aaand…they were back to _that_. He found it a little hard to keep up with her sudden changes of topic. Daniel looked down for a second, scraping the floor with the tip of his boot as he tried to decide what to say. Finally, he looked up again, to find Vala perched on the wooden frame of his bed, staring at him expectantly.

"I trust…that _you_ trust him," he said finally.

And for a moment, it seemed as though things were not so fraught between them anymore.

* * *

**A/N: I _want_ to say the next chapter will be up soon, but the less I promise, the better! It _will_ be up, eventually, though. Many thanks for your patience, and for following this story:) As always, I love to hear from you, and quite honestly I missed you all!**

**Myosotis**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who sent me their feedback on the last chapter:) I love hearing from you guys! And of course _huge_ thanks, along with a virtual chocolate cake (ordered, not baked by me, so it's safe!) to my wonderful beta-reader, Dawn! **

**Eye of the Storm**

Landry placed the red phone handset back on its cradle and let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. It had been a long day. In fact, it had been a string of long days. It was one of those moments when he hated Jack for having painted the SGC in such vivid colours to him. Boy, did he feel like clunking his fellow General over the head with the stack of paperwork that _this_ latest fix would bring. The next time O'Neill had the nerve to ask him to his Minnesota cabin, Landry would be hard-pressed not to strangle him with a fishing wire.

The general sighed again, loudly, and recognized that none of the current mess was actually Jack's fault. He then proceeded to admit that he would not change his job for the world, and finally felt his conscience was once more reasonable and clean. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of the present situation.

A knock on the door interrupted his glum ruminations.

"Come," he instructed, and was relieved to see it was only Col. Carter. He half-expected an army of office-clad bureaucrats to come storming in, waving court orders for weapons, and treaty points for shields. Luckily, that did not seem to be the case—yet. "Colonel, what do you have for me?" he demandedwith a curt nod of greeting.

"I've read the data crystals we brought back from the Ori ship, Sir, and finished comparing them against the description we got from the Ancient tablet." She gave him a serious, confident look. "There was only one match. We found the planet that holds the Ori library."

"Now all we need is a way to _get_ to it," Landry pointed out, leaning forward in his chair and fixing her with an expectative look. If he knew Carter at all, she would have something on that subject, as well.

"Yes, Sir, actually, I had an idea about that."

Landry smiled inwardly. He did know her pretty well, after all.

* * *

"Colonel, that's impossible!"

Daniel almost sniggered under his breath. If Sam had a penny for every time she had heard _that_ before. Granted, Daniel himself almost echoed Woolsey's sentiment this time—her idea was by far the most far-fetched they had had…in a good week or so. But no one was surprised; they had been expecting something like that ever since Landry had summoned them to the conference room to discuss Sam's latest findings.

"Well…not really. You see…" He recognized Sam's usual hesitation when she had to put in laymen's terms what had probably taken a lot of time, numbers and equations to develop in the first place. "In theory, a ZPM _could_ power up the supergate."

SG1 exchanged wary looks. That was a shaky plan, at best.

"We don't _have_ an available ZPM, Colonel," Woolsey dryly pointed out.

"I know. The alternative would be causing a powerful chain-reaction that would release the same amount of energy. But any reaction of that magnitude..." she trailed off, shaking her head. "Even if the power levels required dropped exponentially after the first activation established the probability trajectory for the wormhole…it would still be highly destructive."

Daniel felt the urge to say what everyone else was thinking; he rubbed his temples, knowing he was dropping a match in a powder keg.

"We do have one ZPM," he finally pointed out.

All eyes at the table turned to Daniel. Landry placed his elbows on the table and joined the tips of his fingers, prepared to watch the discussion unfold. More than anything, he wanted to see if SG1 was willing to trust that plan—otherwise, he would never give them the go.

"Jackson," said Mitchell, intentionally slow, "you don't mean the one protecting Earth against the _imminent_ Ori invasion, right?"

"There won't _be_ an invasion if we defeat the Ori once and for all," Daniel defended.

"Yeah…and usually I'd be the first to jump on that, but all we have is a chipped piece of _rock_ and a bunch of coordinates!"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure the planet's coordinates are exact," Sam interjected, "we cross-referenced them with the Ori maps."

Silence fell for a long second, interrupted by Woolsey's indignant cry.

"That's ridiculous! We can't leave Earth entirely unprotected _and_ power up the enemy's gate to our galaxy!"

They exchanged worried glances again; the IOA delegate was voicing a general concern.

"Well, then, let's get _another_ of those toys," Vala encouraged matter-of-factly, "there can't possibly be only _one_ of them in the whole galaxy! I know at least half a dozen planets where we could probably get one for half-price—"

"It's not a matter of price," Sam interrupted her. "All the other ZPMs that we know of are either depleted or are already being used."

"Can't we ask Atlantis…to…" Mitchell's voice slowly trailed off, "…hold their breaths for a couple of weeks…"

Teal'c gave him a look of mild interest.

"I was not aware that humans possessed that capability, Colonel Mitchell."

Vala spoke up again before Cam could reply.

"I agree with Daniel. If we can get to the Ori before the Priors get to Earth, we won't need the ZPM to protect us from their ships."

"It's pretty risky," Sam admitted. "But I don't see another choice."

Mitchell took a second to make sure Teal'c was on board, as well. Then he looked to the General, silently acknowledging that they were all willing to give it a shot. Landry nodded, raising a hand to stop Woolsey from protesting any further.

"Alright, Colonel Carter," he said finally. "I will forward your suggestion to the President, along with my support."

* * *

Hours later, the team enjoyed a late dinner in the mess hall. They picked silently at their cold pork medallions, each mulling over the past days' events. The waiting felt strange; it allowed them an uneasy period of calm, much like being trapped in the eye of a storm.

Sitting across from Daniel, Vala swallowed hard. The air was oddly charged, heavy with some kind of static, and it made her restless and excited at the same time. She stole a glance at him; his carefully avoidant eyes, the faint flush of his cheeks and the way he gripped his fork a little too hardtold her he felt it, too. Something hung unseen around them, almost too light to detect, like the vague scent one gets after blowing out a candle.

Sam's laughter pulled her out of her reverie, and Vala realized there was really nothing there to warrant her unease.

"Can you pass the pepper, please?" Sam nodded towards the shaker that stood between Daniel and Vala on the table.

They reached for it at the same time. Their hands touched over its cold metal top, momentarily freezing them both. Then Vala shook her head, gave him a falsely dismissive smile, and reluctantly pulled back, just as he did the same. Her breath came out a little faster than normal, and the knife rattled slightly on her plate as she tried to cut the meat. With a hurried gesture, he took his glass to his lips, spilling a few drops of water as he did so. Vala found herself tracing one droplet with a fascinated stare, as it trickled down his chin. His eyes were fixed on the pepper shaker still, where her hand had rested only moments before.

"And _that's_ why we should have Superman on our side!" Mitchell's voice boomed, and Sam let out a disdainful peal of laughter.

"I'm not _even_ going to let you drag me into this conversation," she finally commented with a grin, then added in a perfectly audible mutter, "but just for the record, Thor could take him on anytime."

Vala lowered her eyes, cutting the meat so keenly that she left a visible scrape on the bottom of her plate before stopping herself. With a slightly confused smile, she glanced around the table, noticing Teal'c's intrigued, eyebrow-cocked-quizzical stare. Having never had her request fulfilled, Sam frowned slightly, then looked towards Daniel and Vala's end of their table.

"Erm…_may_ I have the pepper, please?"

Neither Vala nor Daniel moved a muscle, instead just casting uneasy, crooked glances at each other from the corner of their eyes. For a long second, Sam waited. Finally, with a quiet bark of laughter, Vala reached for the shaker, pushed it towards the blonde colonel, and quickly returned to her meal. She swore she had never eaten a faster steak in her entire life, not even after the three days of starvation back in the Ori galaxy.

Silence had fallen over their table, broken only by the clatter of cutlery. Finally, Sam put down her fork and reached for her glass of juice; she stirred it a few times with the straw before speaking up again:

"Think the President will give us the go?"

A round of wary glances, and all traces of unease were suddenly gone as they found themselves easily falling into the conversation.

"I doubt it, actually," said Daniel with a shake of his head. "We should get Jack to pull some strings for us."

Sam sighed.

"I'm not sure even he can get us the ZPM."

"O'Neill does possess acquaintances at considerable altitudes."

"High places, Teal'c," Mitchell corrected with a groan. "Friends in high places. And it's gonna have to be some pretty damn high-placed strings," he added, "to push this one through."

Vala rested her head in her palms, giving them all an innocent look.

"Or we could just _take_ the ZPM."

Everyone turned to her in sheer disbelief. Daniel shook his head as though to clear his ears.

"You did _not_ just suggest we steal our own ZPM."

"I'm just saying, Daniel, that there are…_other_ ways of getting what we want—no, what we _need_, if your clean, official—" she emphasized the word mockingly "—way doesn't work."

Daniel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I don't even want to hear this."

But she wouldn't let up.

"This is important, Daniel. We need to get to the Ori galaxy, to get whatever it is that Morgan la Fey told us about and defeat those manipulative, power-hungry bastards once and for all." She crossed her arms and gave them all a serious look. "And if a little cheating is what it takes, I think that's a small price to pay."

"Alright, alright that's enough," Mitchell decided to kill the topic before it got out of hand. "It won't come to that."

"It might," Sam admitted quietly, and he arched an eyebrow at her.

"It _won't_, because Landry's supporting your idea and the President will listen to him."

"Of course he will," Vala too readily agreed. "I'm just saying, if—_if!_ we were to…borrow…the ZPM for this mission, and actually defeat the Ori, everyone on Earth would be too grateful to put us in jail, right?"

"Yeah, and if our plan fails?" Daniel demanded with a hint of sarcasm.

"Then, darling…I don't think we'll need to worry about jail."

And they all had to admit, she did make a good point.

* * *

**A/N: Have a great week, everyone:) Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Alright! To the person who sent the Update Police to my door—you know who you are!—you…are…cruel! Do you know what they did to me? Do you? Do you? Well let me tell you! I was **_**hauled**_** out of my cosy writer's block, **_**thrown**_** into a two-by-two cell with a bunch of muses on a caffeine high and left to fend for myself for three whole days!! Bail was set at eight—eight!!—chapters of this story! **

**Well alright, I suppose there must be some gratitude involved on my part…but begrudgingly! My fingers are all raw and bloody from working to make that bail! **

**To the rest of you, who did not rat me out to the Update Police…much love :D. **

**To my beta-reader, Dawn, many thanks as always. And if the Update Police asks about my whereabouts, I've last been seen diligently typing away in a coffee-shop…in Timbuktu! :D **

**Chapter 25: Comes Around**

It was not until two days later that Landry summoned them to the conference room again. Usually, the team would come in and have a seat before the general made his entrance, but today they found him already seated at the end of the table, gripping a thin blue file. The scowl on his face portended nothing good.

SG1 exchanged grim looks as they greeted the General and sat down. Without an introduction, Landry raised his head and went straight into business.

"The President has approved the mission to retrieve the knowledge from the Ori library," he started, then his scowl deepened. "However…he refused to allow us to use the ZPM to power up the supergate."

A collective moan went around the table, as everyone's expressions soured to match the General's.

"How exactly does he expect us to _get_ to the Ori galaxy without the supergate?" Mitchell demanded, more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Sir?" he finally remembered to add, with a quick glance to the General.

But Landry was not inclined to comment on the lack of formality. It was obvious to them he shared their frustration. Sam shook her head, thoroughly disappointed.

"With all due respect, Sir, denying us the ZPM is the same with scrapping the mission."

"This is ridiculous," Vala said bluntly, and Daniel and Teal'c were about to voice their protests, as well, when Landry raised a hand to halt it.

"Believe me, I've said all this to the President—in fact, I said a lot _more_ to the President...it still didn't get him to sign off on the ZPM." He sighed and pushed the folder across the table to Mitchell. "SG1, you are cleared take the _Odyssey_ along with the smallest necessary crew through the supergate. As to powering it," he looked towards Sam, "Colonel, you'll have to find another way."

* * *

_Find another way_, the General had said. And so they would, even if it meant giving Landry's words a rather loose interpretation. That same night, gathered in Daniel's office and with the doors securely closed, SG1 worked on devising an alternative.

"I take it none of our appeals worked," Cam remarked with not an ounce of surprise.

After the disappointing news from the morning's briefing, each of them had grabbed the nearest phone and begun some serious string-pulling. Except for Vala and Teal'c, who, Cameron imagined, had jumped straight to thinking up plan B. A plan B that no sane SGC officer would ever even consider listening to, let alone following.

Daniel dropped into his chair.

"The President might still change his mind," he offered in a doubtful tone. Sam, propping an elbow on the back on his seat, thought it her duty to add:

"Maybe I can find another way to power up the supergate…"

But her voice sounded every bit as unconvinced.

"We don't _have_ another way, Samantha," Vala declared openly. "So let's just go straight to what we know we have to do," she crossed her arms as though daring any of them to beat around the bush any longer, "which is _get_ that ZPM you say we need."

For a moment, it seemed as though there would be further argument. Then Mitchell took in all their expressions, one by one, and finally rested his palms on top of the desk, shaking his head in obvious agreement.

"Better tell Ma' to have my best suit ironed for the court-martial," he muttered, not without a hint of amusement. "Alright people…suit up for the bank job of the century."

* * *

Once they had put aside all qualms, things had begun to roll smoothly. They would use the _Odyssey_ to get the ZPM. However, they were only cleared to take the ship in four days, and they needed it much sooner. Too much could go wrong in four days.

Drumming her fingers on the back of Daniel's chair, Sam bit her lower lip, her expression a mixture of bashfulness and mischief.

"I…might've overheard that the _Odyssey_ is scheduled for a maintenance flight tomorrow morning."

Her statement left everyone surprised for a moment, except for Vala, who took it all in stride.

"Which means," the brunette reasoned, "they'll be expecting it to leave hangar. All _we_ have to do is be on board when that happens."

"Sam?" Mitchell gave his fellow Colonel a questioning look.

"Nothing an Asgard beam and some improvising won't do."

Daniel shook his head, still slightly bemused.

"Guys!" He put up his hands to halt the discussion. "Are we seriously considering this?"

"I believe we are, in fact, already implementing this plan. Daniel Jackson," the Jaffa pointed out, and Vala rewarded the comment with a grin.

"Yup. _Way_ past the considering point."

Daniel sighed, trying not to think about the insanity of it all. So they had the means to sneak aboard the _Odyssey _days earlier than they were supposed to. That, however, wasn't the hardest part.

"Hate to be the bearer of bad news here," he frowned, "but what about the ZPM?"

To his surprise, it was Sam who answered, again, with a slight blush.

"I…might know the coordinates…and codes….to where it's being held."

Daniel frowned. Teal'c tilted his head at her admission, fixing her with one of his impenetrable gazes. Vala just grinned happily.

"So I wasn't the only one thinking ahead," she commented under her breath.

Mitchell was utterly mystified.

"Just where do you _know_ all this stuff, Sam!?"

As Sam's blush deepened, Vala's grin turned into a smirk.

"Cameron…let me just say it is a good thing you became a pilot, and not a detective."

* * *

Less than an hour later, the details were all set. They would drive Sam's car to the hangar where the _Odyssey_ was held on the morning of the maintenance flight. One of them (Sam) would then either sneak onto or use her credentials to board the ship—alone, it would be far easier and less suspicious. Once inside, it would be easy for her to get to command and lock the ship's Asgard beam onto the emitters the rest of SG1 would be wearing.

"Then we _fly_ to the coordinates Sam gave us, _use_ the codes she has to get through the signal jam and just beam the ZPM on board!" Vala finished her recap of their plan with a definite air of satisfaction.

"And high-tail it out of there with half of Earth's fleet on our tail," Mitchell added.

"Earth _has_ no fleet, Cameron" she calmly pointed out, "that's why your people are relying on the ZPM in the first place."

"Still, he has a point," Daniel agreed, "they won't just stand for it. They're bound to send every ship they've got after the _Odyssey._"

"Does the _Odyssey_ not have cloaking and hyperspace capabilities that other Earth vessels do not possess?" Teal'c offered, and they all agreed it was well possible to dodge whatever smaller ships came in pursuit until the Odyssey left the planet's gravity field and jumped to hyperspace.

"That's the plan then," Mitchell concluded, and nodded to the rest of his team. "Go pack your bags—"

"Wait."

* * *

Daniel let out a small groan. He had seen it coming. And by the unsurprised expression on Mitchell's face, so had the colonel.

"Vala…" Cam tried to convince her to not even bring it up, but she would not go for it.

"Tomin has to go with us," she half-declared, half-pleaded, then proceeded to rattle arguments in her best persuasive tone. "We need him there. He's been to the Ori galaxy before—lived there all his life, he knows the customs, knows the way things work—"

"So do you, you lived there for a while, remember?"

But she completely ignored Daniel and continued her shower of arguments.

"He's served in the Ori army and knows their ships and their ways—which _I_ don't," she said to Daniel, showing she _had_ heard him after all, "he's _at home_ in a galaxy we barely know _anything_ about! His perspective and his help are invaluable! And—"

She stopped for a breath and lowered her head; wisely, no one spoke up. After a second, Vala looked back up again, moving her eyes from one to the other.

"And I just won't leave him behind." She focused her appeal on Mitchell. "He's locked up, a prisoner and that obnoxious man wants to have him _tortured_ for information! What do you think they'll do to him once we're gone? He'll take the brunt of _our_ actions as well, and I won't stand for that!" Her voice switched from firm to earnest to downright pleading in seconds, and she looked at her teammates expectantly. "Can you seriously tell me you'd leave him here knowing what they might do to him?"

None of them answered. Cam just let his head drop back as he fixed the ceiling with a resigned stare.

"There's no way we'd be allowed to just take him," Daniel murmured. "We'd have to break him out, and we're already pushing the limits here."

Vala knew when a battle was won. She gave him a lopsided glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"Daniel…We'll be hijacking the best ship and stealing Earth's most precious artefact. Springing a prisoner from his cell won't even show up on the indictment next to that."

He actually bit back a smile.

"Good point."

Mitchell nodded. "In for a penny…in for a bucket o' gold…"

* * *

"Wow…" Sam let out a long breath and shook her head. "It's just dawning on me exactly how much trouble we're about to get ourselves into." She looked genuinely awed at their formidable insanity. "This even tops that time I shot my way off-base and tried to convince everyone the SGC leaders had gone insane."

"Not even close," Daniel smirked. "At least you were right, then—well, sort of. The time we snuck on to Sokar's prison planet?"

"At least you had the official 'go' then," Mitchell picked up the game. "That time you rallied the women on base, knocked out the men and clobbered General Hammond over the head to get rid of Hathor?"

"Ohh." Sam grimaced. "Really thought my career was over _then_. Good one," she winked at Cam, "and pretty close, too. But way, _way_ smaller scale, though."

Teal'c leaned against the wall, catching on with his usual impassive air.

"I believe our current situation most resembles the occasion on which we unlawfully escaped through the Chapa'ai once your government had decided to shut down this project."

"Yeah! Government overruling SGC suggestions, impending Goa'uld attack, crazy unauthorized mission to prevent it…" Mitchell pointed a finger at Teal'c. "Closest one yet, big guy!"

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgement, and the shadow of a smile glinted in his eyes.

Everyone's gazes instinctively turned to Vala, as she had yet to do her part in their little game. She sat on the edge of Daniel's desk, lips puckered in an expression of great concentration. Then the corners of her lips turned upwards in a smirk.

"All those endless_, agonizing_ lectures, that _each_ of you inflicted on me about ethics and morals, about rules and regulations and following orders...and what do you know?"

She gave them her best grin.

"We end up doing _exactly_ what I was doing when I first ran into your lovely people. Remember that, Daniel?" she finished with a wink.

* * *

**A/N: There really are seven more chapters completed after this one, so we can be expecting fairly regular updates for a while! No need to involve fanfic update authorities, yes? (again, no names, but yes, I mean **_**you**_**! :P)**

**Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Well! At the risk of making the Update Police even more popular among you…here is a new chapter, as promised. I will try my best to update twice weekly from now on, or at least once a week if I'm away.**

**Chapter 26: Off Base**

The black SUV drove swiftly down the deserted highway, alone and inconspicuous in the copper light of sunrise. Inside, its passengers sat in thoughtful silence, lulled deep into their thoughts by the steady whirr of the wheels against the concrete. The crisp early-morning breeze crept in through a barely lowered side window, its subtle hum another note in the uniform background melody.

As they passed yet another rusty road sign, it was Vala who broke the silence:

"Think anyone has noticed we're gone yet?"

Her voice was unusually subdued; whether for keeping to some unwritten rule of stealth, or because she felt the circumstances were close to overwhelming, no one could tell.

"I don't see why they should have," Sam finally replied. "It's too early for anyone to check the sign-out records…and they have no reason to suspect any of us. Well," she amended after a second, with a shake of her head, "they'll probably be trying to keep an eye on _you_…"

Sam diplomatically trailed off, but Tomin's name hung unspoken in the air. Vala scoffed, still obviously displeased at their governments handling of the matter. Sitting next to her in the backseat, Mitchell gave her a sidelong glance, but chose not to comment. Instead, he met Daniel's gaze in the mirror.

"Step on it, Jackson, will you? They're gonna notice we're gone at _some_ point. Doubt Landry will think we're out and about at this ungodly hour for your average fishing trip."

"It doesn't _go_ any faster," Daniel replied with a touch of irritation. "It's just a car, not an F-22."

"We're almost there, anyway." In the right seat, Sam was consulting the map she had unfolded in her lap. "There should be an unmarked wood path in a few miles."

"Why would your people build a hush-hush, secret hangar in the middle of nowhere," Vala inquired with an arch of her eyebrows, "then make it show on a map? You Tau'ri aren't very good at being stealthy, are you?"

Daniel rolled his eyes at her in the rearview mirror, but did not get to shoot back a reply. Sitting to Vala's left and looking decidedly uncomfortable in the crammed backseat of the car, Teal'c had taken her question as seriously as he took all things. He cocked his head at her.

"I do not believe the location of the hangar was originally marked upon the map."

"Exit here, Daniel," Sam indicated, then proceeded to guide him through a series of turns along smaller side roads, until eventually they could spot what looked like a long-unused forest path at the side of the road. "We should leave the car somewhere out of sight. They're probably monitoring the area around the hangar."

* * *

"Hold it!"

Sam kept her face carefully neutral, as she eyed the guard with only a vague hint of interest. Behind him, she saw the massive hangar doors, closed and marked with an assortment of warnings.

"This is private property," the guard informed her with a look of distrust. The Odyssey was kept too far off the beaten path to account for any casual visitors. "Don't make any sudden moves," he warned.

As he beckoned one of his colleagues to join him, Sam held up her palms in a placating manner, and slowly reached inside her jacket for an ID.

"I'm Colonel Samantha Carter," she started in a casual tone. "My team and I are scheduled to take the _Odyssey_ on a mission in two days. I'm here to install some necessary upgrades prior to that mission."

The two men exchanged a wary glance. The first took the ID she held up and studied it for a moment.

"We weren't informed of any of that, Ma'am," the second guard told her, his tone a hint more respectful after seeing her credentials.

Sam gave them a smile, and shrugged.

"It was a bit last minute," she admitted, "but Colonel Davidson is expecting me. I'll be working with Major Marks on implementing a new optimization algorithm for plotting trajectory vectors in hyperspace windows." She could _see_ their eyes glaze over. "It's safer to run the program during the pre-mission test flight, so we can assess the arc deviations and readjust the hyperspace buffers to compensate for—"

"Alright, Ma'am," the second guard held up his hands. "We're just security. I'll escort you to Colonel Davidson and you can discuss the details of your assignment with him." He hesitated for a moment. "Ma'am, I have to ask you for any weapons…"

"I'm not carrying any," Sam replied, unzipping her jacket and holding her arms wide apart to prove it.

"Right. Well, this way, then, Ma'am." He led her to a smaller side-door and held it open for her, not so much for politeness as for caution.

"Thanks," she replied with a good-natures smile, and was pleased to see the guard relax a bit. It occurred to her that boarding the Odyssey might in fact be easier than she had thought. Of course, the tricky part of the plan was just coming up.

* * *

He had just _known_ it!

General Landry looked through the report that ground-level security sent up twice daily. Usually, of course, the general made but a cursory perusal of the list of people who had signed in and out of the base, then quickly shoved the report at the bottom of the daily paperwork. That morning, however, he had had a hunch of what that name list would contain.

And surely enough, five names leapt out at him.

The whole of SG1 had signed out (Vala without permission, naturally) before sunrise.

Landry hesitated for a long moment, holding the paper with both hands and staring at it thoughtfully. SG1 was definitely not out on a morning hike. He would have bet his General's stars that they were in the process of breaking the rules somehow (and he had a pretty solid idea of how, too.) Their actions were illicit, reckless, openly defying orders and most likely illegal, and his obligation was to stop them by all means possible. Doing otherwise would have bordered on dereliction of duty.

Concealing vital information.

Facilitating a crime.

Treason.

Some stunt they had pulled on him. He fantasized for a second about assigning Mitchell to clean the restroom facilities for a whole year. It brought a content smile to his lips. Unfortunately, it was but a fancy—at least for the moment. Black on white, reality stared back at him from the page, in the form of five names along with sign-out hours.

He stared at the clock on his wall. Seven thirty-five a.m.

He never read reports that early in the morning. Breaking routine was bad for a man his age. With a hum of contentment, he put the report back on the pile of freshly stacked paperwork for the day.

On second thought…he took the file and shoved it at the bottom of the pile. _Oops_.

Technically, if he hadn't _read_ the name list…

A knock interrupted his musings, and Landry looked up, straightened his back and invited whoever was outside his door to enter. A second later, he was greeted with the spluttering, dishevelled sight of SGC's very own IOA representative.

"General!"

"Mr. Woolsey. You're here early."

Privately, he wished he had thought to check the sign-in records that ground-level security had sent up. That way, he would have known not to answer the knock on the door.

"I demand to speak to Colonel Mitchell!" Woolsey stammered, looking hassled. "Or—or Dr. Jackson! Or—"

Landry leaned back in his chair with decided slowness.

"Mr. Woolsey, why on God's green Earth are you telling _me_ that?" he replied with his best puzzled tone. "Do I look like a secretary? Get an airman to take you to their quarters, if you wish to speak with either of them."

"I did! None of them are _in_ their quarters! I looked in Dr. Jackson's office, and Col. Carter's lab, I can't find any of them, _anywhere_!"

"Have you tried the mess hall? Breakfast _is_ one of the day's highlights here at the SGC..."

"They're not there!" The little man looked all wound up, his back ramrod straight, shoulders shaking with agitation and little droplets of sweat gathering on his ample forehead. "General, I see what's going on here—I demand to speak to a member of SG1—"

"Well, as you can see—and you're welcome to check, of course—" Landry solicitously offered with a large wave of his hand, "they're not hiding under my desk, either. In fact," he added after a short pause, with a great nod of realization, "it's no wonder you have trouble finding them. Given that you are in _my_ office, I'd say you've been looking in all the wrong places."

Woolsey pursed his lips and gave him a narrow-eyed, you-don't-fool-me look. Leaning forward in his chair and placing his hands on the desk, fingers interlaced, Landry returned his most obliging expression.

"They're not on base, are they?" the IOA representative spoke icily.

"Mr. Woolsey," the general gave a kind laugh, the one you would give a naively stubborn child, "where else would they be?"

The smaller man kept his irritated frown for a moment longer, then finally broke eye contact. Silently, resentfully, he turned his back on Landry and headed towards the door, but changed his mind halfway and turned his head to look at the general once more.

"I thought I'd be here in time…" he said in a perfectly emotionless tone. "I'd given them at least _two_ days to come up with a way to completely disregard orders once again."

Landry held his gaze with the perfect deadpan.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," Woolsey sighed. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue some more, perhaps make a threat, then he shook his head and his shoulders visibly slumped. "Well…I guess I'll go look for Col. Mitchell some more."

"I'd consider breakfast, if I were you," Landry deadpanned. "I'll tell Walter to give you a voucher."

* * *

**A/N: Big thanks to everyone who's reading this and to those of you who sent me their thoughts on the last chapter! I love hearing from you every time:)**

**Until next time!**

**Myosotis**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: This is pretty much an all-Sam chapter ;) our brilliant colonel-doctor was long overdue for her time in the spotlight. Hope all Sam fans reading this story will enjoy this part! **

**Chapter 27: This Far, And No Further**

"Colonel Carter!"

She hoped the guard who had escorted her on board the _Odyssey_ could not see the look of utter surprise on Davidson's face. Either way, though, she was there, on the bridge of the ship, and there was no going back.

"Colonel Davidson," she greeted with a friendly smile. Before the man could add anything else to convey his surprise and refute her story, she hurriedly added, nodding to the guard behind her as she did so: "Good security you've got here. I almost thought I had to turn back to the SGC."

Davidson looked at her in confusion. Behind him, two other officers gave her similarly puzzled glances from their stations.

"I'm here to take a look at the hyperspace flight paths grid during the test flight," Sam continued, all-business. "I need to make sure all the parameters are right for the upcoming mission."

"Eh…" he arched his eyebrows, unsure what to make of her story. He looked to the guard behind her, who returned a blank expression. "Colonel, this is…"

"I've also been asked to update you on some mission specifics…straight from Washington…" she improvised, then looked back at the guard once more, and lowered her voice a notch. "And…it's information meant for the crew only."

Davidson looked at her for a moment longer, before finally nodding to the guard, who obeyed the silent order and headed back to his post outside the hangar. The commander of the Odyssey then turned his eyes to Sam, and, with an expectative wave of his palms, invited her to continue.

"Right…" she started, thinking quickly and adopting her best scientific tone. "Well as you know, the Odyssey is scheduled to go through the supergate to the Ori galaxy…"

Sam waited for him to offer a confirmation of sorts, but he simply stared at her, silently listening to the explanation. Inwardly, she cringed as she realized Davidson would not be as easy to convince as she had hoped. Of course, one was not given command of Earth's most advanced ship for one's trusting and accommodating nature.

Maybe she should have brought a zat. She could have snuck it past the guard. Of course, hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Now she just had to work with what she had—namely, her brain and her words. And a reputation that, sadly, could only get her so far.

"However," she went on, "we have had some difficulty finding a way to activate the supergate. Our best bet was using a zero-point module to provide the energy needed to generate the wormhole—you see, the core stores enough power to open and maintain the vortex, and remote-connecting the device to one of the gate ports would actually ensure a two-way link that would allow us to…"

"I know how a ZPM works, Colonel," Davidson interrupted. "What I would like to hear is exactly where you come into all this, if you don't mind. Please don't take offense," he added calmly, "but I wasn't expecting you to join us on the test flight and it's…unusual…that I wasn't informed."

Sam bit her lips. Apparently, technobabble could only get her so far, too. Damn.

Next up, blatant prevarication. She affected an expression of surprise.

"I thought the orders were sent to you from Washington regarding the mission updates. I guess there was some mix-up…we can contact them and see what happened," she suggested with what she hoped was a nonchalant shrug, "I'm not going anywhere."

He seemed to consider her suggestion, then nodded, relaxing the slightest bit.

"That sounds good. Lieutenant Harris," he addressed one of his people at the stations, a young-looking man with an unconventionally long mane of dark blonde hair, "please contact Washington and get them to clear up this misunderstanding. Meanwhile, Colonel Carter, you're welcome to observe preparations for the test flight. We're just running a final check on propulsion engines, and we're scheduled for take-off at oh-nine-hundred hours."

Sam could virtually _hear_ the wheels in her head turning. She couldn't wait for the connection to Washington to come through and expose her lie. She couldn't single-handedly take out the entire bridge crew. But maybe she _could_ still get her team on board…

She swallowed hard and headed for one of the consoles, the very station where she had operated the Asgard beam a dozen times before. Trying to look casual, she leaned over the commands until her fingers touched the keys…

"Colonel." Davidson's voice sounded pleasant, but there was a definite air of insistence about it. "If you don't mind waiting for word to come through before you start your work…I'm breaking protocol just by having you here without prior approval. I'm sure you understand," he ended amiably, yet there was the subtlest note of challenge in his voice.

Sam's mind raced. Could she type in the commands quickly enough? Would her team be ready to get beamed into a volatile situation? Was there enough _time_? Her fingers wavered over the keys, and she could feel Davidson's vigilance before she even met his intent gaze.

The man was much more aware than she had given him credit for. Again, she idly mused that they did not give ships to just anyone to command.

Their gazes finally crossed, and Sam knew her ruse was up. She made a motion to activate the Asgard beam…

"Don't move, Colonel, please" Davidson said in a voice that managed to be both alert and steady. He studied her wary expression with a frown. "As I said before, this…is a _highly_ unusual situation."

Sam just arched her eyebrows in a what-now fashion. Even standing right above the console, it was pointless to try and key in the commands. She would not have enough time to sweep the nearby area for the beacons, let alone beam them aboard before someone on the bridge stopped her. It would only give away the presence of the rest of her team, which, Sam reckoned, was about the only thing that could possibly worsen her current situation.

And of course, this being a typical-SG1 plan and their luck being what it was…

"Major Marks, any systems exclusively controlled by this station?" Davidson asked of his pilot, who promptly responded:

"Yes, Sir. Holographic projection system, external gravity field generator and the Asgard beam, Sir."

The commander tilted his head.

"The Asgard beam…" He nodded to the pilot once more. "Scan the immediate area around the hangar for short-wave, low-frequency beacons…say, on a three-mile radius around—"

"Four beacons located, Sir, point eight miles south-west of our current location."

Sam's eyes widened in alarm. She looked towards the station again, then to the four trained officers surrounding her.

"Get a security team in here, Lieutenant Harris," Davidson instructed.

"Sir, the connection to Washington should be coming through…"

"Tell them to hold, I think we'll make it worth their while. First, get those security people up here, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir."

Sam's fingers flew to the controls before she had even had time to consciously process her actions. She completely tuned out her surroundings, focusing only on beaming the rest of SG1 somewhere that _wasn't_ the bridge of the Odyssey…

…and was shocked to discover her commands had no effect.

She raised an appalled look to the Odyssey crew. At the pilot's station, Marks turned to her with a slightly rueful expression.

"I diverted the controls from that console," he told her in a low tone, then shook his head and offered a small apologetic shrug. "Sorry, Colonel Carter…it's the security protocol."

Davidson fixed her with a grave stare. As if on cue, the doors hissed open and three men walked onto the bridge carrying weapons. In a matter of seconds, Sam found herself at the wrong end of three gun barrels.

"Major Marks…beam the four beacons on board."

* * *

**A/N: Happily awaiting your feedback on this chapter, as always. I'll be going away for a few days again, but as soon as I'm back I'll reply and upload the next part! Yes, I _know_, this frequent-updates thing is pretty cool! Loving it--like a baby with a new toy ;). **

**Thank you for reading and staying with the story!**

**Until next time,**

**Myosotis**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter! And my eternal gratitude to Dawn, for patiently beta-reading all the chapters I heaped on her desk--well, in her inbox. **

**Chapter 28: Could Have Gone Better...**

"Stop fidgeting."

"Stop telling me what to do."

Mitchell gave the two of them a long, disgruntled look. Hidden by the foliage, they waited out of sight and below the radar for Sam to get on the _Odyssey_ and beam the four of them aboard. Unfortunately, the wait was turning out to be long and idle, and nerves frayed as they swatted forest bugs and shifted uncomfortably on the damp mossy floor.

As usual, Jackson and Vala were driving him crazy. Cam looked to Teal'c, who returned his usual stoic expression. The colonel had learntby now how to read the nuances of that impenetrable visage: currently,in the Jaffa's composed gaze, he thought he saw traces of amusement mixed with exasperation. Either that or, Mitchell reckoned, he was projecting his own state of mind.

"Sam should be on board by now," Jackson was saying, carefully keeping his voice low. "_If_ they let her board, that is."

"Were you always this pessimistic, Daniel, or are you getting cranky in your old age?" Vala inquired with faux interest, which earned her a pointed glare.

"Now that you ask, I think I did get crankier over the past couple of years—"

"Yes, I noticed!"

"—because it's been one _insane_ venture after another," he hissed at her, "and somehow, do you know who everything can be traced back to?"

"_Whom_, darling," she corrected, absolutely immune to his indignation. "And you're always telling me to learn your quaint Earth dialect properly."

Mitchell decided it was time to intervene when he noticed the archaeologist open his mouth for another retort.

"Save it for the talk show, Jackson." He checked his watch, then the small device pinned to the collar of his jacket. "Make sure your beacons are active. Carter's sure taking her sweet time."

Vala clasped her hands together, leaning heavily against one knobbly tree trunk.

"I _told_ you, you should've let _me_ hijack the ship."

Daniel scoffed quietly and muttered something about tempting the wolf with lamb chops.

Vala grinned maliciously and shook her head at Cameron and Teal'c.

"Daniel still has issues with me stealing his mighty ship out from under him…" she explained, "which is totally understandable, of course." She turned towards the archaeologist, her voice all saccharine. "I mean, just _imagine_ how that must have diminished your self-image and masculine confidence. I think Dr. Hutchinson would call your condition—"

That very second, a white light, accompanied by the familiar sensation of an Asgard beam enveloped them.

"—a psychosocial insufficiency complex coupled with emasculation anxiety that engenders heightened defensiveness and—"

"Well I'm glad to see your sessions with the shrink are at least enriching your vocabulary," Daniel deadpanned, then added in sotto voice, just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Obviously they're not helping much in other areas."

From behind one of the consoles on the _Odyssey_, Sam looked from one to the other, mouth slightly open in surprise as she followed the baffling exchange.

"Don't ask," Mitchell advised.

It was then that he noticed the three crewmen holding guns trained on him and his team, and Colonel Davidson standing in his command chair, an ominous frown on his face. Mitchell's questioning eyes immediately fixed on Sam, who just shook her head and grimaced ruefully.

"Don't ask," she echoed.

* * *

The bridge of the _Odyssey_ was rarely a place where one got to relax, seeing as how the ship was usually deployed on high-risk missions and emergencies. But the battle time buzz was nothing next to the tension that filled the room after Davidson ordered the rest of SG1 beamed aboard.

Mitchell and his team stood in the middle of the bridge, eyeing the three crewmen who edgily held them at gunpoint. Sitting in his chair, the commander of the _Odyssey_ regarded his unwelcome visitors with a less-than-friendly frown.

"Alright…Colonels, Dr. Jackson…Teal'c, Ms. Mal Doran…I am only going to ask this once. What…is going on here?"

There was no reply, though the five of them exchanged wary glances. Davidson leaned forward in his chair, cupping his chin as he gave them a thoughtful look.

"See, the way it looks now," he stared slowly, "you were going to take aggressive action against this ship and my crew. Now, we haven't known each other for very long," he admitted with a shake of his head, "but from what I heard of the legendary SG1, this doesn't sound like your usual endeavour. Which is _why_ I am giving you the opportunity to defend yourselves before I order you taken to the brig and call the cavalry."

"We _are_ the cavalry, Davidson," Mitchell pointed out impatiently. "Well—we plan to be," he amended with a lopsided nod. "Soon as we get to the Ori galaxy, get whatever we need to kick their asses and bring it back to Earth before those Priors' ships make it here."

"And how exactly was attacking my ship going to help with that?"

"We weren't _attacking_ anyone," Daniel hurried to correct, "we would've just beamed you down safely and taken the _Odyssey_, no harm done."

"Sure, it's fine when _you_ do it," muttered Vala. "Tau'ri have _such_ double standards."

Since the man did not look at all convinced by their argument, Mitchell took charge of the discussion again, taking a couple of steps towards the command chair for extra emphasis, before the twitchy guards warned him to stop.

"Listen, Davidson, this is how this show's gonna play out if you turn us in. Sure, we'll probably get locked up in a cell for life, but it'll be a damn _short_ life, considering the bunch of ships on their way right now to blow Earth to kingdom come!"

"We need the _Odyssey_ to complete the mission," Carter added in a serious tone, but it only made Davidson even more irritated. Much as he was genuinely trying to understand, the whole thing made no sense to him.

"But you've already _got_ the approval for the mission," he barked, losing patience. "Why all the subterfuge, why attempt to _hijack_ the ship two days before we're scheduled to depart for the supergate?"

Another glance exchange among SG1. Daniel volunteered an offhand shrug.

"We…needed it a little early."

Davidson's eyes widened with disbelief.

"And you couldn't go through the proper _channels_ to move up the departure date?"

Vala gave a small derisive scoff.

"Been there, done that, didn't work, had to wing it."

Before anyone could reply, Harris looked down at his station, then up towards his commanding officer.

"Sir? Washington's pushing the connection," he informed Davidson. "They want to know what's happening and why we called them."

"Tell them we've had some unexpected guests," his superior instructed. "Hold the details, Lieutenant." He turned back to SG1, a new note of urgency in his stance. "Colonel Mitchell, I think you'll agree that things aren't looking too good for you at the moment. Now, I have the greatest respect for you and your team, so I want to get the facts straight before making any decisions."

Instinctively, everyone in SG1 looked towards Cam, and they subtly moved closer together, not enough to raise suspicion, but enough to let him know they would back his chosen course of action. Standing, hands behind his back in one of his usual stances, Teal'c moved squarely to a flank, putting himself between two of the armed men and his team-mates. Vala's shoulders tensed ever-so-slightly, as she prepared to reach for the Zat inside her jacket. Daniel's eyes darted around the bridge, keenly taking in the details. If they were going to rush the _Odyssey_ bridge crew, now would be the moment…

But Mitchell simply gave a curt nod and held his palms up in a pacifying gesture.

"Alright, Davidson. You want to get your facts straight? Here's the deal," he started. "Earth's got a big _bull's-eye_ painted on it, and _we_ might have a way to stop it from becoming target practice for the Ori ships. Now to that end, we need the _Odyssey_…and a couple of other things. Only the President wouldn't give us the go, so we had to…improvise."

He paused for a second.

"Which," he amended, with a shake of his head, "could, frankly, have gone better."

He looked to Sam, who arched her eyebrows and returned a shrug.

"He was a tougher customer than we counted on," she commented in a low voice, which made Vala theatrically roll her eyes and mutter "_amateurs…_".

"If you turn us in, we might lose the only chance to find the Ori library," said Daniel. "There's no one else at the SGC more qualified to go to their galaxy and decipher whatever knowledge Morgan Le Fey's tablet leads us to! This could be our only way of defeating the Ori once and for all!"

"And just how are you going to get the ZPM to activate the supergate?"

The abrupt question surprised them. Daniel's eyes widened, and Mitchell looked incredulously towards Sam.

"I figured it out, Colonel Mitchell," Davidson said dryly. "And I'm not impressed. What you and your team are doing is treason. Not to mention impossible to accomplish. I have no choice but to—"

"I know this may sound clichéd," Daniel defended, "but does the phrase "for the greater good" make it any better?"

"Getting us locked up isn't going to help anyone," Vala added, "and at the risk of sounding overconfident, _we_ are the best chance this galaxy's got right now. How long do you think that cloaking device can hide Earth? What about the rest of the planets the Priors are enslaving? Are the Tau'ri just going to hide and let everyone else fend for themselves?"

"When the Asgard left their legacy to the Tau'ri, the fifth race," Teal'c spoke for the first time, and everyone deferred to his baritone voice, "they also bequeathed their protectorate agreements. And Earth has alliances of its own to uphold. If we _can_ help them and ourselves at the same time, should we not at least try?"

He took a step towards Davidson's chair, ignoring the guards' nervous twitches, and looked the commander of the Odyssey straight in the eyes.

"We must reach the Ori galaxy," he finished, "and attempt to defeat the Ori permanently. Your assistance at this point would be…beneficial, Colonel Davidson."

And just like that, there was nothing left to say. The rest of SG1 simply nodded their quiet agreement, looking expectantly towards Davidson. The colonel sat in silence, measuring them with a pensive stare. Finally, he stood up from his command chair.

"Lieutenant Harris, is Washington still on the line?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You have permission to reveal the presence of our guests to them. Let them know SG1 tried to hijack the _Odyssey_, and tell them I will be holding them in the brig until someone arrives to escort them to a more suitable facility for interrogation."

He gave Mitchell a cautioning glance.

"Don't even try it, Colonel. I do not want any blood shed on my bridge, but my men are under orders to shoot you at the smallest aggressive move."

"You're making a big mistake," Vala warned. "This is going to cost Earth much more than—"

"Escort them to the brig," Davidson cut her off with a nod to the security guards, then looked to SG1 once more. "And please, don't test my men. This is all a regretful incident, and I would be truly sorry if any of you ended up hurt as a result."

* * *

**A/N: While I was replying to last chapter's reviews, I had this spectacular revelation. See, up until then, I'd thought reviews at the end of a chapter are a bit like applause at the end of a play (or--to court humility--rotten tomatoes, but you get my point...): a bit of a one-sided kind of communication. But what with the not-so-new-anymore "review reply" thingy that has installed, said communication is not so one-sided anymore! I've gotten a lot of precious insight and ideas from your reviews and PM-s, and I can honestly say, at least some aspects of this story have changed due to our conversations ;). Like, some characters getting more "screen" time. Or some not getting killed off. Or certain scenes taking place. **

**So, to get to the point of this seemingly endless rant! I'm really loving this little dialogue we've got going. So thank you for making it happen!**

**Myosotis**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29: Hijacked**

"Well _this_ went much worse than I expected."

Sitting cross-legged on the cold floor, Vala looked up towards her team-mates with a grim expression. The security guards had locked them in the brig moments before, and everyone had been silent since.

"So? What next? I call the guards, you zat them, we break out, take over the bridge and we're on our way?"

"Piece of cake," Daniel replied, sarcasm virtually dripping out of his every word. He leaned against the metal wall, sullenly eyeing the security camera up in the corner. From his position next to the door, Teal'c nodded his agreement.

"I, too, believe we must hasten to take action, before the Washington authorities arrive to take us into custody."

"At least they didn't take your weapons," Sam pointed out, slightly taken aback by the oversight. "I don't know how Colonel Davidson didn't think of that."

"Much good that's going to do us," Daniel sighed. "A couple of Zats won't open these doors."

"I told you we should've taken the bigger guns," said Vala.

"I think the guards at the gate might have been a little suspicious if we'd signed out carrying the whole SGC weapons inventory," Mitchell retorted, while he paced the small space in agitation.

"It was hard enough slipping those Zats past the scans," Sam elaborated for Vala's benefit. "It's strictly forbidden to take any kind of weapon out of the SGC without clear orders."

"Yes, and we are all about sticking to the rules," Vala replied, meaningfully waving her arms to indicated their current surroundings. She put her palms on her knees and sat up, brushing some dust off her pants. "Well, cosy as this is, I think you'll all agree that we can't stay here for very long!"

Mitchell and Sam exchanged worried glances.

"I'm not so sure we have a choice," Sam finally replied, and they all plunged in an uneasy silence as they searched for the elusive solution to their predicament.

* * *

"Washington confirmed, Sir," Harris looked up from his station. "They're flying over a security complement to take SG1 into custody. They should be here in a little over an hour, and we're instructed to delay the test flight until further orders."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Colonel Davidson looked at the bridge around him and stepped down from his chair to walk among his officers at various consoles. "Major Marks…" he said as he stood behind the pilot.

"Sir?"

"_Hypothetically_ speaking…how long would it take the _Odyssey_ to reach the supergate in its current state?"

"Seventy-five hours, Sir…perhaps eighty, with…delays," Marks amended quietly. The three other officers currently on the bridge also stopped their various activities and followed their commanding officer with uncertain gazes.

"Lieutenants," he turned to Harris and another one of his bridge crew. "How many vacation days do you have coming up? And you, Major Marks? Major Davids?" No one said anything, so he prompted them again. "Well?"

"Sir!" Davids, a tall, dark-haired woman, seemed ready to protest, but his deadpan gaze kept her silent. "Two weeks leave time," she replied curtly, and glanced at her fellow officers for their reactions. No one else said anything.

"SG1," Davidson started, "will most likely be court-martialed—well, Colonels Carter and Mitchell, at least. Given their record, and that nothing came of their plan, they might instead be offered early retirement. But that owes much to their reputation… I hope you all understand the seriousness of their actions."

The bridge was completely silent for a long, strained moment.

"Sir?" Marks suddenly called from the pilot's station. Davidson signalled him to speak his mind. "I'm pretty sure I used up all my vacation days this year."

* * *

The atmosphere inside the brig was frayed with tension and anxiety. Mitchell had disabled the camera, and Sam and Vala had tried fumbling with some wires in the wall, but they had failed to make the door open. Daniel and his Zat had not succeeded, either.

SG1 morale was at a record low for that day.

Vala was just getting ready to fire another Zat discharge at the door, when it swung open to reveal Colonel Davidson. He did not look at all perturbed to be faced with the business end of the Goa'uld weapon.

"You can put that away," he told her calmly. "You have just successfully hijacked the _Odyssey_. Or rather," he corrected with a half-smile, "the Odyssey has hijacked _you_. Care to follow me to the bridge, SG1?"

* * *

"Davidson, not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but…" Cam examined the all-but-deserted bridge before turning his questioning gaze to the Odyssey commander. "What exactly's going on here?"

"Let's just say…most of my crew spontaneously requested the privileges of their vacation days. They have been escorted off the ship. What you see here," and he nodded to himself, Major Marks, Lieutenant Harris and two more crewmen that Mitchell did not know, "is the current _Odyssey_ crew. And we're getting ready for take-off."

SG1 kept quiet for a second, looking at each other as understanding dawned. Mitchell shook his head, a sparkle of admiration in his eyes.

"Don't you have some vacation days of your own?" he asked. "Y'know, go fishing, take the Mrs. scuba-diving in the Bahamas…"

"What, and give you my ship? You couldn't even _commandeer_ it properly—no offense, Colonel Carter." He looked downright indignant at Cam's suggestion. "You think I'm just going to let you slam it head-on into some big battle…without me?"

"This could get ugly," Mitchell warned. "Best-case scenario, we'll be back to get court-martialed for insubordination, defying orders, stealing government property…properties…"

Davidson waved a dismissive hand.

"I always thought my record was too clean," he joked, then added with a wink: "Wife thinks I'm boring." He shrugged and sat back in the command chair with an air of determination. "Nothing like a court-martial to shake things up. Get ready for take-off, Major Marks."

Sam walked behind the pilot and watched the monitors, indicating the coordinates of their next stop and discussing possible path trajectories in a low voice. Mitchell took a seat in the chair next to Davidson's, while Daniel pulled out a data disk containing the information he had deciphered from the tablet, and gave it to one of the remaining crewmen to upload into the _Odyssey_ charts. Vala and Teal'c took up positions at two of the deserted stations.

"Sir," Harris called out, "the Washington detachment contacted us. Their plane lands in fifteen minutes."

"Tell them to take their time, Lieutenant," Davidson indicated with the beginning of a smirk. "We're not going anywhere."

"Engines ready for take-off, Sir," said Marks. "Hangar roof opening."

Davidson did not miss one beat. "Let's get out of here, Major," he instructed.

Mitchell shook his head again. At the end of the day, things were turning out better than planned. Who knew Davidson had it in him? He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction as he felt the engines start. Carter announced take-off and turned to give him a cheerful smile. Even Teal'c looked pleased, sporting the classic lip-curled-upwards that passed for a Jaffa grin. In a few seconds, Marks announced they had cleared the hangar, and Cam felt a slight tug as the _Odyssey_ accelerated.

"Now _this_…is what I'm talking about!"

* * *

**A/N: Alright, so a few of you pretty much read my mind with regard to where this chapter was going, but I'm still quite curious to hear what the rest of you think ;). **

**Myosotis**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed the last chapter! As for this chapter, huge thanks to Dawn for her patient beta-reading! **

**Chapter 30**

**Rhino in a Porcelain Shop, pt. 1**

An ominous metallic buzz filled their ears as the Odyssey vibrated under their feet.

"Colonel Carter, are you sure these are the right coordinates?" Davidson inquired, teeth clenched to stop them from chattering. "The EM field here is going to tear us apart!"

"I'm sure," Sam confirmed, rapidly entering commands into the pilot's station. Working to her right, Marks struggled to keep the ship on a straight trajectory. "If anything, the presence of the field only proves that there's a strong protective barrier active in this area, probably surrounding the facility where the ZPM is kept."

"Sir, we've got incoming aircrafts headed straight for us!" Harris called from his position, trepidation evident in his voice. "Six F-22s, Sir, and they've locked onto us."

"Thought we were going for the silent approach." Gripping the handles of his chair, Cam leaned forward, ignoring the violent tremors that shook the entire ship and caused his ears to ring painfully. "Sam, can't you get us cloaked? We're about as stealthy as a rhino in a porcelain shop!"

"The system isn't responding!" she replied. "The Asgard upgrades bypassed some connections to merge cloaking and shield controls, but the modifications weren't compatible with the _Odyssey's _control grid!"

She turned to Marks in agitation. "I thought an engineering team was working on that!"

"They were," said the pilot, "they put in a shunting program. It was scheduled for testing during today's pre-mission flight." He slid lower in his chair as the ship shuddered even harder. "Ma'am, the navigation system is affected by the EM field, we're veering off trajectory, stability index dropping!"

"The F-22s have launched their attack!" Harris cried, moving to check another monitor. "Impact in fifteen!"

"What happened to _warning_ us?" Mitchell demanded. "Since when does the Air Force go with the 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy?!"

"Marks, evasive manoeuvres!" Davidson ordered, and they all jerked violently as the Odyssey avoided the first salvo. As the ship redressed, he quickly surveyed the damage. "Lieutenant, you alright?"

Unprepared for the sudden jolt, Harris had lost his footing and ended up on the floor; he picked himself up and nodded shakily to his superior's inquiry. The only other person on the bridge not sitting down, Sam had almost been thrown of her feet, managing only at the last moment to grab onto the back of a chair; she now slid quietly into the chair and reached for the closest intercom button.

"Vala?" she called urgently.

"_Ow_," came the disgruntled reply. "_A little heads-up would be nice next time, Samantha._"

"I need you to get to the Asgard core room! We need to manually disengage the shunt the engineering team put in, it's locking me out of the system!"

"_I thought you needed us here to handle the ZPM once you beam it on board. Muscles and I are just clearing the—_"

"Jackson and Teal'c can do that." Mitchell hit the intercom button next to his chair and cut Vala off. "We're sitting ducks here without shields or cloaks, so get down to that Asgard core and give Sam access to the system!"

"_Okay, no need to get huffy--I'm on my way. Vala out…_"

The Odyssey rocked again as Marks struggled to dodge another round of missiles from the F-22s. Sam got up from her seat and rushed to the port where Daniel had uploaded the access codes. Immediately, Mitchell took the chair she had vacated and started describing the F-22 attack paths to the pilot.

Three salvos later, they still had no shields, but at least the irritating vibrations had stopped.

"I've managed to override the barrier controls," Sam reported. "I'm in their system now…deactivating security latches…" She quickly checked the codes on her screen. "I've got the coordinates of the ZPM! Lieutenant, I'm transmitting them to you, activate the Asgard beam, _now_!"

* * *

Vala ran down the deserted corridor, swearing loudly as another jolt sent her crashing into one of the walls. How the Tau'ri could launch a ship into space with half the systems not working properly, she would never understand. They had had a good couple of months to study the Asgard upgrades, the _least_ they could have done was make sure the transition to the more sophisticate technology was a smooth one.

The ship veered again, but this time she was more prepared. Sprinting the last few turns of the corridor, she reached the Asgard core room and hit the door controls with more force than she had intended.

The room was eerily silent. The circular row of consoles blinked and pulsed heartily, the glimmer of their small lights reflecting strangely off the metal walls. The few times Vala had been there before, there had always been at least two or three technicians milling about, and usually Sam, too, tinkering with some panel or bunch of wires to make the newly upgraded _Odyssey_ less of a gem in the rough and more of an operational ship.

Without wasting time, Vala went to one of the monitors and tried to bring up the specifics of the shunting device designed by the engineering team. She studied the data for a moment, shaking her head.

"Sam should be here doing this," she muttered to herself, testily hitting a button on the command board.

Unfortunately, Sam was up on the bridge, working that end of the shielding system, feeding coordinates and codes into the computer and trying to safely beam the ZPM onto the Odyssey without blowing them all to pieces in the process. A lot of work for one single person to do. But, since SG1 was pretty much manning the ship all by themselves, all of their resources were stretched thin. It would get easier once they were on their way to the supergate, with no more complicated schemes and deft technical manoeuvres to execute…

"Ma'am?" One of the two technicians who had stayed behind on the _Odyssey_ was looking at Vala from the doorway. "Colonel Carter said you might need some assistance rewiring the diverted shielding gear controls."

"How thoughtful of her," Vala smiled, signalling him to join her at the console. She watched his someone wary approach with a hint of amusement.

"Normally, of course, it would be piece of cake for me to work your ridiculously accessible Tau'ri systems," she specified with an immodest beam, "but I've never stolen an _Asgard_ ship before. Have you?" she asked innocently.

"No, Ma'am!" The man looked positively flustered. "But, uh, I have worked on the adaptive modifications on the _Odyssey_ for the past few weeks…"

"Well that will just have to do, then, won't it?" she winked at him, and they focused on the displayed schematics once more.

* * *

_"…have the ZPM, Sam…_" Daniel's voice came through the intercom in a series of grunts. "_Teal'c and I just…latched it into place…"_

"Did the Asgard beam cause it to malfunction in any way, Dr. Jackson?" Davidson asked from his command chair. He did not want a device storing enough energy to power an intergalactic supergate acting up on his ship.

"_Didn't blow up yet…that's a good sign_."

"Alright people, let's not wait around for the invitation to tea." Mitchell clasped his hands together, turning to the pilot. "Major, those F-22s still on our tail like kids on a candy seller?"

"Very much so, Colonel." Another round of fire came, as if to confirm his words. "Wait…Sir, we've got another formation incoming, close enough to lock target on us in just under a minute."

"I'd say that's our cue to get out of here," Cam commented, with a look to Davidson.

He half-wished the other colonel had stayed behind, as his presence made matters of who was in command a little awkward. To Mitchell, it was clear _he_ was in charge of the mission, but he did not know how well Davidson would take to someone else giving orders on his ship…plus, they _did_ owe him the success of their plan thus far.

Cam loathed diplomatic entanglements. That was Jackson's field of expertise, not his.

Luckily, getting out of those F-22's target range was the least debatable order ever given.

"Set course for Cheyenne Mountain," he instructed the pilot. To the Odyssey crew's surprised looks, he humorously elaborated. "There's…some extra luggage we need to pick up before we're on our way."

Inwardly, he sighed. Vala would never know how close he had just come to scrapping that part of their plan. He hated to go back on his word, but he had a bad feeling about the whole Tomin thing. He hoped the ex-Ori commander would prove him wrong.

* * *


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31: Rhino in a Porcelain Shop, pt 2**

Since Vala's last visit to his holding cell, Tomin had not known _what_ to expect. But the presence of the small, balding man, agitatedly waving his arms about in the middle of the sparsely furnished detention room, had certainly not been on the list.

"Do you have any idea just how poorly their actions reflect on _your_ position?" the little man was enquiring, stepping closer but glancing back at the security guard for extra reassurance. "The IOA has already talked to the President about your transfer! You are to be treated as a hostile alien detainee! But," he paused briefly to emphasize his next words, "if you tell me what SG1 is planning, I can guarantee you offworld guest status—provided, of course, you cooperate fully and answer all our…"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Tomin interrupted calmly. And, for the most part, he was telling the truth. "I am not hostile, and I have come to Earth to assist your people in fighting the Priors…"

"Yes, so you say," Woolsey countered. "But how do you explain SG1's disappearance so soon after your arrival? Then the hijack of our best ship, for unknown purposes!" His voice climbed higher, the further into his tirade he went. "You can't tell me you aren't in on their plan! What are they going to do with the _Odyssey_? Where are they headed?"

"I don't know," replied Tomin from his seat at the table, clasping his hands and giving the IOA representative a blank stare. "I was not even aware they were gone before you told me so."

Again, mostly the truth. During her last visit, Vala had been reserved and wary, giving him but a few uneasy glances and distracted words. The way she always behaved when she was hiding something from him, and Tomin was saddened to see it happen again. Then again, what better had he the right to expect?

"Mr. Tomin—"

He looked up at his interlocutor, surprised and a little amused at the use of the unfamiliar appellation.

"—I can't stress enough just how beneficial your cooperation would be to you at this point," the smartly-suited little man was saying. "Maybe you're new to Earth policies, but I can assure you, there is a great difference between being treated as an unreceptive prisoner and being treated as a helpful guest!" Tomin's continued silence seemed to exasperate him, and he threw his hands up in the air. "How can you claim you know nothing? Miss Mal Doran visited you shortly before their departure! You can't expect me to believe she told you nothing of their plans!"

Tomin just shrugged.

"She didn't. We…haven't been talking much," he admitted.

What he failed to mention was that, while Vala had said absolutely nothing of any plans they had, she had furtively slipped him a small, strange-looking device and, under the guise of giving him a kiss on the cheek, whispered that he should keep in on him at all times. Before Tomin could reply with anything more than a confused glance, she had turned away and left, and he had been left wondering just what his wife's designs were, this time. But he was compelled, for love or maybe for atonement or the more prosaic lack of choice, to trust her and go along, so he had pretended to tie his laces and slipped the small object in his right boot.

Now, he could feel the alien device pressing against his ankle. The irritated man in front of him spoke of a grand escape and some SG1 plan. The memory of Vala's voice quivering with agitation. The guards' dark looks as they stood, hands crossed behind their backs, keenly watching his every move. And Tomin suspected something was afoot, and that sooner or later, he would come to be a part of it. Vala would be there, and perhaps in a small measure, he would be given the chance to make up for his past.

He did not need to know any more.

* * *

"I feel like a mother duck," Mitchell commented dryly, as he eyed the monitors that now displayed about twelve blinking dots trailing the _Odyssey_ en route to Cheyenne mountain.

"I don't get it, why keep sending the jets after us if they _know_ they can't fire?"

Sitting in one of the many empty chairs on the bridge, Daniel allowed himself a small sigh. Barring the missile-bearing honour escort, things were going pretty well for them, which probably meant they were in for a big turnaround soon. Their luck was a lady, and fickle as one too.

"Intimidation?" offered Major Marks. "Warning? A reminder that they can shoot us down at any time?"

"Except they _can't_," Vala arched her eyebrows, pointing her index at him in search of reassurance, "right? If the ZPM blows up, we'll be taking half the continent with us."

"Unfortunately, that won't hold once we're out in space," Daniel pointed out. "Let's hope Sam has the ZPM wired in and powering the shields and cloak by then, because they'll probably be sending everything they've got at us."

"What, and risk blasting up the ZPM?"

"Yeah…" he considered her question, "I have a feeling they'd prefer that to us taking it."

"Sore losers," Vala muttered, with a grimace of disdain.

"Like a dog in the manger," agreed Mitchell.

"Coming close on Cheyenne Mountain, a hundred and fifty miles," Harris informed them from his station. Daniel frowned, trying to recall a past experience.

"If I well remember, Thor beamed Jack up from orbit a bunch of times," he provided, "a couple of hundred miles shouldn't be a problem." He looked to Davidson, who silently acknowledged the information.

"What is the range of our Asgard beam, Lieutenant?"

"Uh, it depends, Sir," came Harris's answer, "Normally, it's got a pretty wide range, but with the new upgrades, we're still working out the kinks in the _Odyssey_ system. It would be a lot easier if we had a signal to fix on."

Mitchell caught Vala's gaze and nodded once.

"It's just as well then, that I happened to slip Tomin a beacon before we left," she grinned at the _Odyssey_ Lieutenant, who looked a little intimidated. "It should be sending out the same frequency as ours…but it might look a little distorted by the electro-magnetic field around the SGC. Maybe scan for a slightly wider range of similar-pattern frequencies?"

"Got it!" Harris nodded, a note of youthful excitement slipping into his voice. He immediately caught himself. "I mean, I, uh, think I read the beacon, Sir. We need to significantly slow down before we can attempt to engage the Asgard beam, though."

"We could try upping the spin mark, that might allow us to hover for a couple of minutes," Marks suggested, but Harris shook his head.

"Inertial dampeners were a bit shaky last time we tried this, Sir," he said. "It might get messy in here. We could also consider just going into a higher orbit and letting the drift do its job."

"They've probably got a dozen X-302s on their way right now," said Mitchell. "We go up there unshielded, they're gonna be shooting at us like tipsy crackers at a county fair."

Davidson took a second to consider his alternatives.

"Increase the spin mark, Major," he finally instructed. "Bring her to a hover long enough to beam the beacon aboard, then get us out of here fast enough to lose those F-22s!"

"Best give Carter a warning, if it's gonna get rocky in here," Mitchell commented as he reached for the intercom. "Sam? You there?"

"_Go ahead_."

"We might jolt the ship a little. Okay on your end?"

"_Give me a minute to make sure all the connections to the ZPM power core are fixed in place_," she requested. "_I think we've got everything ready for remote double-linking to the supergate. If Vala's rewiring works…" _

"Of course it does," Vala interjected with some haughtiness.

"…_we should be able to draw energy for the shields and cloak from the ZPM, as well._"

"Good job, Colonel Carter," praised Davidson. "Now hang on to the nearest rail," he advised. "We're about to up the spin, and the centrifugal dampeners aren't in top shape."

Unnoticed, Vala gave Daniel a sideways glance.

"And you said the ships _I_ got us were sub-par," she muttered under her breath, loud enough for just him to hear, since he was sitting right beside her. "Is _anything_ on this boat working properly?"

* * *


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32: Escape Velocity**

"—stole the _Odyssey_, the ZPM, who knows what else they're capable of?!"

Woolsey threw his hands in the air, giving the General his gravest and most irritated expression.

"It's obvious why they're headed for the SGC! Orders just came through authorizing the transfer of this prisoner to a more secure facility, for questioning!"

Landry looked from the flustered IOA representative, to the confused but fairly calm Tomin, and shook his head at the latter. He may not be able to do much for SG1 anymore, the General thought, but he was not about to let Tomin take the fall for all of them.

"I can try to stop them from taking you," he told the man, "but you're going to have to give me something to go on."

Yet Tomin continued to maintain he knew nothing of SG1's plans. Woolsey continued to demand firmer action. Landry was sure he could not, in good conscience, stall the IOA any longer. He had given SG1 his silent vote of confidence, going as far as to ignore their unauthorized departure and turn a deaf ear to Woolsey's cries of indignation. But when reports started coming in from Washington of his most reputable team commandeering the US Air Forces' flagship, he could ignore them no longer.

Before anyone had the time to recover from the shock, news came that the _Odyssey_ had just used an Asgard beam to steal the ZPM.

Now, the ship was on its way to Cheyenne Mountain.

All in less than two hours' time.

Landry pinched the bridge of his nose. Reluctantly, he picked up the phone on the wall.

"This is General Landry," he spoke into the receiver, "authorizing red alert status, effective immediately. Halt all scheduled offworld traffic, engage security lockdown, extend scrambling net to cover the whole base."

Woolsey stepped closer, the top of his balding head bobbing nervously as he spoke:

"Is that going to be enough? They got the Asgard beam through the barrier that protected the ZPM! And what if they open fire on us? Shouldn't we evacuate?"

The general gave him an ominous glare.

"I do not expect my people to open fire on us, Mr. Woolsey," he said coldly. "As for the Asgard beam, the scrambling signal—"

That very second, a white light enveloped Tomin, and he vanished right in front of their eyes.

"—can obviously be overridden," Landry finished with a tired dip of his head. He paused for a second, and sighed. "I think this effectively concludes our debate, Mr. Woolsey. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He picked up the same phone again, with a long-suffering roll of his eyes.

"This is Landry. Stand down from red alert. Yes, Sergeant." Another sigh. "Very well, tell him to hold the call, I'm on my way up."

Without another word, he turned on his heels and left the room, leaving a bewildered Woolsey behind still trying to get over the suddenness of the recent events.

* * *

Tomin had been watching the Earth people's leader in a heated debate with the small-man-who-talked-too-much, when a strong light had almost blinded him. He had felt a strange sensation tingling through his body, and had half-formed a conscious notion of surprise, when his surroundings suddenly changed.

The floor promptly tilted under him, and he was violently yanked sideways, crashing into something cold and bulky. The impact knocked the air out of him. Odd colours filled his vision, while truncated cries rang in his ears.

"—decreasing spin force, Sir—"

"—us out of here, Major—shortest arc trajectory to higher orbit—"

"—shields, Carter—"

"—lower region of the thermosphere, moving west bearing—"

The violent rocking began to subside, and Tomin found himself lying on his side on a metal floor. He pushed himself up on one elbow and raised his head only to be greeted by Vala's face a few inches from his. Despite her dishevelled appearance, she spared him a smile:

"Sorry for the poor reception," she joked, nodding to what Tomin realized was a ship bridge in a state of great agitation. "We've been having a little trouble with some stubborn systems and an overzealous bunch of chaperones."

* * *

"We're reaching first escape velocity, Sir," Marks called from his station. "Reading a squadron of F-302son the radar, headed our way."

"Big surprise," muttered Daniel, while Davidson tensed up in his command chair.

"Shields, Lieutenant Harris?"

"Working, Sir…" As if on cue, Sam chose that moment to come onto the bridge, followed by Teal'c, while the two _Odyssey_ technicians had stayed behind to deal with any loose ends.

"We're ready to go," she told them, a little out of breath. "I wired the ZPM to power the ship's system until we get to the supergate. It's going to boost our hyperdrive speed, _and_ it should avoid any unsafe interaction between the two power cores."

She stopped for a breath, taking the time to sit down at one of the consoles. "Once the ZPM is linked to the wormhole, it will automatically reroute the _Odyssey_ power grid back to the Asgard core."

"We're taking fire from the F-302s, Sir!" Harris suddenly cried out, and the ship jolted violently a second later. "Shields holding…" he announced. "But we might still take some damage with a dozen of them firing at us."

"Strength in numbers," Daniel pondered out loud. "Don't suppose they'll back off with a couple of warning shots."

"Believe me, Jackson, firing at those crafts is about the worst thing we could do right now." Mitchell shook his head. "We don't want _that_ nail in our coffin. Don't know about the rest of you, but _I'm_ planning to still have a job when we get back!"

"Spoken like a true optimist," joked Sam.

The bridge jerked under their feet again, this time even more forcefully. Carter frowned as a few lights on her console blinked warningly. She quickly verified the data with Harris, her mouth setting in a grimace of dissatisfaction as he confirmed her readings.

"The Asgard core and the ZPM aren't sufficiently isolated from each other. They're feeding too much power—I'm getting abnormal energy spikes in several systems!" She tiredly rubbed one of her cheeks as her eyes followed the diagnosis on the screen.

"Indoor climate system is down," Harris provided. "Cutting off its power feed to avoid further damage."

"F302s coming in for another attack, Sir!"

"Whenever she's ready, Marks," Davidson instructed, "take us to hyperdrive."

An incredulous Daniel looked up at the colonel's orders.

"Whoa, wait a second, we need to fix this!"

"It can't be done while we're in hyperspace. Restoring power to that branch of the system would destabilize the energy flow too much," Harris specified, causing Mitchell to let out a wary whistle.

"Flying to the supergate with no heating? It's gonna get colder than McMurdoch's in here." As he spoke, another salvo exploded on the shield surface, and they distantly felt the impact. Vala turned to him, her voice high and agitated.

"You might not have noticed, but we don't exactly have time to play repair shop!"

"We'll _freeze_ before we reach the supergate," Daniel protested, and she turned to him, belligerently crossing her arms.

"We'll _thaw_ in the Ori galaxy!" She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. "Daniel, if there's one thing they have _plenty_ of over there, it's _fire_!"

"Good point," Mitchell commented wryly, while Daniel simply gave her a pointed roll of his eyes. "That's it, then, let's break up this party before the neighbours call the cops." He looked to Davidson, who was nodding in full agreement.

"Hyperdrive, Major Marks, as soon as we're ready."

And thirty seconds later, Earth, its F302s and their missiles and cannons and ominous warnings were all behind them, as the Odyssey darted smoothly through hyperspace, racing towards the supergate.

* * *

**A/N: Don't think I can't hear that chorus of "_Finally!!"_s out there ;). (and don't think I don't agree with it, either...!) So yes, we're finally about to go into the second part of this story...and not a moment too soon! By my appreciation, we're more than halfway through, though. I'm going to try and wrap it up in 50 chapters.**

**Love hearing from you, as always!**

**Myosotis**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N: I want to say something really impressive here--but I've got nothing. So here's off the top of my head: this chapter is ohh about a year or so overdue, and if you're reading this, it means you've stuck with the story for that long, so I pretty much love you. :)  
**

**Chapter 33: Spacebound **

Time on a spaceship was something Vala was more than used to. She had, on occasion, spent days alone in space, confined in some minuscule cargo ship she was delivering as part of a job. Other times, she had stowed away on bigger transports, for as long as two or three weeks at a time, to get to her destination safe and unobserved. She had even owned a couple of smaller vessels in the past, mobile and inconspicuous, that had kept her off the radar when she had needed it.

So why was it that her time on the _Odyssey_, en route to the supergate, was proving so trying to her?

Alone in her quarters, she leaned against the wall until her forehead touched the cold metal. Beyond it, she could almost feel the vast darkness of space, and for once there was no sensation of freedom or comfort with it. It only showed how far away they were from home, how much farther yet they had to go.

She sighed and turned away, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it at the wall in annoyance.

"Ouch," came the wry comment from behind. "We have a gym for that, princess. Lot easier to work off that frustration on a punching bag than a pillow."

She gave Mitchell a sideways glance.

"Didn't your privacy-obsessed people put a doorbell on these cabins?"

"Rang twice, you didn't answer," he retorted.

Vala frowned. Had she really been that absorbed by her thoughts?

"I didn't hear it."

Mitchell stood unobtrusively by the door, arms crossed casually, though she could see by his intent look that he was concerned. For a second, she wanted to shrug it off, then thought better of it; after all, the long, tension-filled hours on the ship were getting to all of them.

"Just came by to tell you we're meeting again in the conference room," he said. "Be there in an hour."

She rolled her eyes.

"Cameron, there's only that much we can plan before we get to the Ori galaxy. Forcing us to sit around a table and get _bored_ out of our minds going over the same ideas isn't going to get us anywhere!"

He arched an eyebrow and gave her a warning glare.

"Yea, well, it's happening anyway. We're going into completely unknown territory here—"

"Not to me and Daniel. And Tomin," she added after a millisecond, and her voice got that hoarse, personal undertone to it again. "We've all been to the Ori galaxy before, we know what to expect. So can we be excused?"

In fact, she would have happily attended if Daniel and Tomin were 'excused'. Vala could not say exactly why, but she did not want to see too much of either of them at the moment.

"Nice try," Mitchell deadpanned. "Neither of you has been there in over a year, and I doubt the Ori have been sitting on their bright collective—butts—doing nothing for all that time."

He walked to the corner of the room and picked up the pillow she had flung at the wall, throwing it back to her.

"Face it, Vala. We're jumping head-first and we've no idea what's waiting for us at the bottom."

She caught the pillow, sat down on the bed and hugged it, looking at the man over its soft, plush rim.

"You're not very good at that whole encouraging-your-team business, are you?"

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

Teal'c crossed the small _Odyssey_ cafeteria with a few determined strides. He ignored Davidson and Marks, gesturing at him to join them at a table by the drink bar, as well as the nods of acknowledgment coming from Harris and two other crewmen who had stayed behind. Instead, he made a beeline for a table at the far end of the mess hall, where its single occupant stared distantly into space.

Upon reaching the table, he put down the tray he carried and silently pushed a plastic coffee cup across. A second passed before his gesture was acknowledged. Tomin stared at the coffee, then looked up with a listless expression.

"Thanks."

Teal'c chose to interpret his words as an invitation, and he sat down on one of the many empty chairs. He looked at Tomin for a long moment, appraising the man's state of mind, before finally speaking.

"You have not left this table for a considerable amount of time," he pointed out in a calm voice of vague interest. "You seem to have no wish to interact with the humans on this ship."

Tomin gave a small bitter laugh.

"They don't want to see me, anyway," he replied. "They all probably hate me—and for good reason."

Teal'c cocked his head, giving him a sideways glance.

"I believe you are mistaken."

Without replying, Tomin grasped the coffee cup and took it to his lips, taking a slow sip, willing his prolonged silence to drive away his interlocutor. He soon realized that was not going to happen, as Teal'c simply joined his hands on the table surface, staring at him with an expression of utter patience.

Words suddenly came to him, thoughts that he had not even known existed.

"This is my chance to redeem myself," he said almost pleadingly. "It should feel _right_, I should feel grateful that I'm given this chance, but instead it's all just…just…" His voice became increasingly strained with anger.

"Disappointment," Teal'c provided. He fixed a coffee stain on the table with a keen stare. "Frustration. Resentment."

He raised his eyes to meet Tomin's again.

"In this battle, it is not only your former masters you must confront, but also yourself...by the same token, it is not only your new allies you must convince of your good sentiments." He paused for a second, choosing his words. "It may be difficult to start believing in yourself again, but once it happens, you will find great strength to go forward with your mission."

Tomin's gaze intensified with a sudden surge of awareness.

"You sound like you know what you're talking about."

Teal'c merely dipped his head noncommittally, and said nothing in reply.

* * *

Tomin had returned to his quarters a few minutes after the talk with Teal'c, only to find Vala there waiting for him. It had been a welcome surprise—she had been so uncomfortable around him, lately. This time, however, she had even leaned into his eager embrace for a second, and Tomin had thought that maybe, maybe what they had was rushing back to her, too…

However, as she sat cross-legged on his bed, playing with a corner of the blanket, he found it trying to bring the discussion around to it.

"Let's not talk about that again."

"But, Vala—" Tomin's shoulders sagged in frustration. "Alright. As you wish." He felt like staying silent, but one pleading look from her made him change his mind. Despite everything, he couldn't stand to see her sad. "I…I talked with Teal'c today," he found himself saying, and was happy to see her head rise with interest.

"Really?"

Tomin nodded. Vala waited for a second for him to volunteer more information; it seemed he wouldn't, though, so she just nodded and picked up the conversation.

"He's great to talk to, Muscles is. Doesn't seem that way, you know, with all that 'tall, dark, and scary Jaffa' routine…" she smiled fondly as the image of her friend formed in her mind, "…but he _gets_ things. And people," she added after a second's thought. "He gets people most of all."

Tomin nodded in his turn, seemingly thoughtful.

"He told me to talk to the rest of…his team…more." There was a split-second of silence as they both acknowledged how he had used third person, rather than second. "And the rest of the crew. He thinks it will help them…accept me."

Vala gave him a confident smile.

"I couldn't agree more. So why don't we do this: walk with me to the incredibly long and boring briefing now," she suggested with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, "then we'll join my friends in the cafeteria for a chat." It felt a bit like coaxing a reluctant child to go out and play with the others, but Vala didn't care. As long as he would be at ease. "How does _that_ sound?"

He returned the smile, though she found it half-hearted.

"It sounds good, Vala." He stood up and reached her his arm, just like he always used to back in the Ori village. It pleased him, the way she linked her hand through the crook of his elbow with a small squeeze of encouragement. "Let us walk, then."

**(End of Part Two)**

* * *


End file.
